And there was no intimation whatever that the blinds would ever go up or the windows or doors be opened, or the chandeliers, that seemed to promise such a blaze of fire, unveiled and furnished and lit. . A moment afterwards, the door was closed and bolted, and the carpenter found himself alone. ‘Why don’t you?’ Melusine frowned at him, grasping the dagger more firmly. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well.
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