Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch. He took a handful of the gravelly mud, with which the platform was covered, and threw the small pebbles, one by one, towards the gleam. “How old are you?” “Sixteen. "I've often heard of a secret door in this room, though I never saw it. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true.
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