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Constance Widgett’s abundant copper-red hair was bent down over some dimly remunerative work—stencilling in colors upon rough, white material—at a kitchen table she had dragged up-stairs for the purpose, while on her bed there was seated a slender lady of thirty or so in a dingy green dress, whom Constance had introduced with a wave of her hand as Miss Miniver. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. “We can,” he said, “and we will. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. "I've often heard of a secret door in this room, though I never saw it. “Our business here is the right way. He next twisted the heavy gyves round and round, and partly by main strength, partly by a dexterous and well-applied jerk, sapped asunder the central link by which they were attached to the padlock. "Well, I'm glad she's spared this. "I am happy—quite happy now. She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. " And then he added, in an under tone, "Conceal yourself outside, and be within call. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. "Swear that you will do this," she cried. ’ ‘I imagine it must be a relief to you, after so lucky an escape.

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