‘How in God’s name did the wretched fellow get in then?’ ‘Dug a tunnel?’ suggested Gerald, halting next to a pair of French windows at the front. It was neither good nor bad. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Wild had evidently discovered the body of Quilt Arnold, and was loudly expressing his anger and astonishment. “No!” Her thoughts had turned in a new direction. . "I see nothing surprising in it," rejoined Jonathan.
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