I feel a mixture of beast and uncle. He then barred and double-locked the door, took out the key, (a precautionary measure which, with a grim smile, he said he never omitted,) thrust it into his vest, and motioning the couple to follow him, led the way to the inner room. Oh God! my limbs fail me. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. “And I’m not happy. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally.
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