As if he read her thought, he spoke it aloud. “Call it warning, if you like. Spurlock was by nature orderly, despite his literary activities. The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile. I will never consent till I see him. After all, where prayer fails, a pistol is bound to succeed. The stairs creaked as Mark rushed down them. The door leaned inward.
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