’ ‘Secret passage, is it?’ The sergeant seemed to brighten at this. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. "As it's getting late, and the porter may be gone to bed," he observed; "I'll take the pass-key, and let myself in. The fellow Kimble, to whom Gerald was indebted, was gaping. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy.
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