Her finger-nails dug into her flesh. She was not squeamish—although the sight of the sergeant’s ominous preparations had severely tried her fortitude—but Kimble’s white face plagued her conscience. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. The mummies were tossed into the collection. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. Will you let your servant call me a hansom,” she continued, opening the door before he could reach her side. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction.
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