She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. McClintock watched her interestedly until her golden head vanished below; then, with tolerant pity, he looked down at Spurlock, who had closed his eyes. "So, stir your stumps, Saint Giles; and, if you mean to lock us up, use despatch. I should never have noticed the miniature at all, if it hadn't been for him. It will be hot work, but it must be done at once. For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. She would marry him.
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