Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. As the secret door opened, the sounds within the house came at once to her ears: the tramping of feet above, and the hoarse voices echoing through the mansion. This charming episode was repeated three times.
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