That she was provoked by his interference was obvious. As she looked in this direction, the thief-taker raised his eyes—those gray, blood-thirsty eyes!—their glare froze the life-blood in her veins. He had seldom been more perturbed. His tone was rough, almost threatening. Jack had brought away the bunch of keys which he had taken from Quilt Arnold, but, none of them would open it.
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