He did not so much cut into this conversation as loom over it, for he was a tall, if rather studiously stooping, man. Ascending the stairs, and conducting them along a sombre gallery, in which Trenchard noticed that every door was painted black, and numbered, he stopped at the entrance of a chamber; and, selecting a key from the bunch at his girdle, unlocked it. "One'd think it rained fares, as well as blowed great guns. Here one might live the life of golden days. And I guessed you would attack if I startled you.
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