Gerald was conscious of that sliver of irritation again at mention of the name. On examining the door, he found it secured by a large rusty lock, which he endeavoured to pick with the nail he had just acquired; but all his efforts proving ineffectual, he removed the plate that covered it with the bar, and with his fingers contrived to draw back the bolt. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. "Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam.
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