"Quilt Arnold, is that you?" "It is, Sir," sputtered the janizary. "Don't exchange glances with him under my very nose, woman!" shrieked Mrs. Left alone, Jonathan lighted a lamp, and, opening the trap-door, descended the secret stairs. The warm September sun fell strongly on this part of the grounds, uninterrupted by trees, its light bouncing off the glass in the mansion’s walls.
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