A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. A single false step might have precipitated him into the street; or, if he had trodden upon an unsound part of the roof, he must have fallen through it. Why should I peep at it through smoked glass to see things that don’t affect me?” He smiled his delight at his companion. Perhaps I'd better open it now. Many of the soldiers dismounted, and called for drink. Quilt was not long in following his example. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me.
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