\" \"No, but can you carry my lunch bag? Where is yours?\" Michelle asked. Taking up a link, which was blazing beside him, he walked across the room; and touching a spring in the wall, a secret door flew open. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. The entire place was a masterpiece of wooden carving, a design of interleaving carried throughout. He looked just like John Wayne in a cowboy movie, his eyes narrow and squinting, except his hair was long, unruly, and jet black.
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