A nod was exchanged. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. Jonathan's wicked threat is fulfilled at last. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. Overjoyed beyond measure at having vanquished this apparently-insurmountable obstacle, Jack darted through the door. There is not a soul in the inn but ourselves.
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