She battled with a deadly faintness, and she tottered rather than walked back to her seat. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. “I know you very well by sight, Sir John.
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