Moving swiftly to the end of the corridor, he pushed open a door at random and entered a large room, which looked to have been a saloon, judging from the faded gilt and crimson wall-paper, a mirror above the fireplace which was surrounded by an ornate gilded frame, now sadly tarnished, and a worn Chippendale sofa with striped upholstery and tasselled cushions. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. "If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle," he muttered. She felt herself shaking again. I’m sorry.
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