"'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely. She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. The beautiful gowns and the flashing bare shoulders and arms of the women had disturbed and distressed her. But I do not know you at all, in truth, and I do not understand why you do this. There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops.
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