" There was a roaring in her ears like that of angry waters. It was Ramage, the occupant of the big house at the end of the Avenue. But when it came to broaching them, it proved to be much more difficult than she had supposed. She might even forgive him. From midnight until morning he was now left alone. But the besetting evil of the place, and that which drew down the severest censures of the writers above-mentioned, was that this spot,—which of all others should have been most free from such intrusion—was made a public exhibition. "I've often heard of a secret door in this room, though I never saw it.
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