Chapter 12 No.12

Allan, lying at the window of the sunny bedroom, and wondering if they had been having springs like this all the time he had lived in the city, heard a scuffle outside the door. His wife's voice inquired breathlessly of Wallis, "Can Mr. Allan-see me?... Oh, gracious-don't, Foxy, you little black gargoyle! Open the door, or-shut it-quick, Wallis!"