There was a lock, apparently more than a foot wide, strongly plated, and girded to the door with thick iron hoops. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. ‘What in God’s name is going on?’ Glancing swiftly towards the doorway, Gerald saw his friend’s disbelieving face and burst out, speaking over the top of Melusine as she made another grab for the little square of linen. " "I am calm—quite calm, Rowland," she answered, with lips whose agitation belied her words.
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