They had scarcely gained the adjoining cellar when Jonathan and the Jew rushed past in the direction of the vault. The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. " "Hold your tongue, sirrah," rejoined Shotbolt, not over-pleased by the remark, "and mind what I tell you. My servant.
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