The key's in the lock, on the inner side. “But if you knew anything of that—” “I did. ‘She’s wearing a lightskirt’s clothing?’ ‘Nothing obviously so, I assure you. She pointed suddenly at the portrait. “Well, I don’t know,” she said thoughtfully. It towered up high above the level of the pass, thousands of feet, still, shining, and white, and below, thousands of feet below, was a floor of little woolly clouds.
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