His face, as he looked down where his hand sought for a weapon concealed in her petticoat, was so close that she could see only the line of his firm jaw, the drag of his powdered hair that drew it into the military pigtail, and the black ribbon that adorned it. Startled by this circumstance, he looked around, and perceived that the trap-door,—which has been mentioned as communicating with a secret staircase,—was open. ‘What in God’s name do you think you’re playing at?’ ‘Let me alone, man,’ Gerald muttered under his breath.
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