Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. I should be sorry if Shotbolt got the reward. But whatever she may have said was lost as Gerald pinned her to the wall, the point of the sword at her throat.
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