Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. She slipped it calmly into her pocket. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. After several vain attempts to burst it open, he resolved, as a last alternative, to break through the wall in the part nearest to the lock. She became as The Tigress, a free thing. . But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored.
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