She sprang to her feet and stood listening with parted lips and eager eyes. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. ‘The secret passage!’ It did not take long to find the mechanism of the candlesconce that opened the door. He had done it. If ever he requires my services, he shall find I'm not ungrateful. There's nothing on the card to indicate it, but I'm a detective. ‘Deaf? Deaf? I’ll have you know, miss—’ ‘Do not have me know anything,’ interrupted Melusine crossly, and digging into her habit, produced the fateful dagger that had cut Gerald’s hand.
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