Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room. “No, you didn’t. His breath grew shallower as he approached the room, conscious of the loudness of his hallway-reverberated footfalls. And if sometimes I grow heady—and it's in the blood— remind me of this day when you took me out of hell—a thief.
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