A little within stood a second door, or rather wicket, lower than the first, but of equal strength, and surmounted by a row of sharp spikes. London Bridge had suffered a degree less than most places. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. ‘So that’s true, is it?’ ‘Certainly it is true,’ Melusine said, opening her eyes wide. Great stone staircases leading no one knew whither, and long gloomy passages, impressed the occasional visitor with the idea that he was traversing a building of vast extent; and, though this was not the case in reality, the deception was so cleverly contrived that it seldom failed of producing the intended effect.
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