Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. “I don’t know why. The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile.
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