"I suppose there is a fire ?" Verity nodded, and wished him goodnight.
The fire was burning cheerily; nevertheless, as Malcolm opened the door, the room felt as cold as a vault.

The window opening on to the balcony had been flung up, and the damp air from the river pervaded the whole place.

The sudden draught made the lamp smoke, and he moved it hastily.

As he did so a dark figure came between him and the light, and seized him almost roughly by the arm.
"So it is you, Herrick, at last!" in a hoarse voice that was scarcely recognisable.

"Now tell me, please, what have you done with Leah ?" The grip on Malcolm's arm was so painful that he winced.