82 She was putting a manuscript away, gingerly locking its heavy tooled cover, but it was a huge, awkward tome. Dunster shall fetch you a cab. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. Wood laughed louder than ever. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart. You did not find him, but did you find his pistol? In the room beyond the bookroom there—a big room where a table had fallen. Perhaps my wife has already prepared you for what I wish to say.
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