Please to open it.

I can't get out." As she spoke, she was quietly fingering a revolver which Adam had given to her in case of emergency and which now lay in her breast.

She felt that she was caged like a rat in a trap, but did not mean to be taken at a disadvantage, whatever happened.

Caswall also felt trapped, and all the brute in him rose to the emergency.

In a voice which was raucous and brutal--much like that which is heard when a wife is being beaten by her husband in a slum--he hissed out, his syllables cutting through the roaring of the storm: "You came of your own accord--without permission, or even asking it.