And, with a glance of malignant exultation, he quitted the vault, and locked the door. 4. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. He smiled. The door was locked; but, with the bars of iron, it was speedily burst open. I've come to take you back home. Bah! She does not know me very well, and you—not at all. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment. She gurgled.
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