Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. Nasty, damp passages. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. Good riddance. “One would think I had said nothing about the matter. Creeping along quickly on his hands and knees, he found the entrance to a covered drain, into which he crept. Dolby was portly and handsome. It was long and narrow, with a ceiling supported by huge uncovered rafters, and so low as scarcely to allow a tall man like himself to stand erect beneath it.
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