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Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. Swiftly she ran her hands over the carvings, trying to find the lever to the secret panel again. Then began expostulations, preluded by a telegram and headed by her aunt. “I suppose you could at least tune it for us if you know how to play. It was the first—and the last! At this juncture, the handle of the door was tried, and the voice of Mr. ‘Then open it quickly. If only we work together. As soon as the service was over, Thames contrived to approach him, and whispered, "Be cautious,—the funeral will take place after evening service.
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