I can’t imagine what possessed you, Veronica. The spikes almost touched the upper part of the hatch: scarcely space enough for the passage of a hand being left between their points and the beam. A thin mist lay on the river, giving the few craft moving about in it a ghostly look. Wood was unable to discover the figure of the widow, but he recognised her dry, hacking cough, and was about to call her down, if she could not find the key, as he imagined must be the case, when a loud noise was heard, as though a chest, or some weighty substance, had fallen upon the floor.
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