‘What?’ Roding snapped, coming quickly to tower above the window seat. “Will they worry about you getting caught in a storm?” She asked him as she viewed black clouds floating in different directions. He then barred and double-locked the door, took out the key, (a precautionary measure which, with a grim smile, he said he never omitted,) thrust it into his vest, and motioning the couple to follow him, led the way to the inner room. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. Perhaps an hour passed before she laid aside the book. A missing persons report was filed for Lucy within twenty-four hours of her disappearance. She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. “I am sorry,” she said, “if you find the likeness unsatisfactory. It was open. She had not thought anything could equal her despair at that moment.
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