230 Rhea sprang, teeth flashing. Perhaps at the first blush—it strikes you as odd. They looked out over the city, grim and silent now, for it was long past midnight. He whispered in her ear. "Who knows but this key may open a golden lock one of these days?" And, picking it up, he thrust it into his pocket. " "Not quite," rejoined the thief-taker, significantly. A deadly sickness came over her, the room seemed spinning round. “Oh, Lucy.
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