‘Hang it all, Mrs Sindlesham is right! You are two of a kind. No hair to fall awry, no powder to displace, no ruffles to crush; men are lucky. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man. Instead, God had sent her Sebastianus, a man who had sold his soul to the Devil to gain eternal life, or perhaps he was even the Devil himself. However, I'll make a last effort to save the poor little creature, if it costs me my life. Feel for the lock, and prize it open,—you don't need to be told how. There you will be, in an inner temple.
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