‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension. Perhaps for the first time he realized that Anna was by no means an ordinary person. The door was too strong, and too well secured, to break open,—the walls too thick: but the ceiling,—if he could reach it—there, he doubted not, he could make an outlet. She hated to leave; for this hour would be the most interesting. At a little distance from the party, sat a tall, sinister-looking personage, with harsh inflexible features, a gaunt but muscular frame, and large bony hands.
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