Seven hundred forty-two dollars and eighty-one cents, the sum total of her money in the world that she hid in a filigreed cigar box shelved behind her schoolbooks. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night. Terence, meanwhile, who had followed him, did not remain silent, but recapitulated his story, for the benefit of Mrs.
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