McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. Who? Could it be Gerald? Quickly, she looked back at Gosse’s face, and found him frowning. He drew an awed breath. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. "You're inquisitive, young gentleman," replied Jackson, coldly.
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