Up on the back of the chair he mounted, resting his bar against the
wall, and began in feverish haste to tear away the gauze concealing the
rectangular opening.
An almost overpowering perfume of roses was wafted into his face. In
front of him was blackness.
Having torn away all the gauze, he learned that the opening was some two
feet long by one foot high. Resting the bar across the ledge he
extended his head and shoulders forward through this opening into the
rose-scented place beyond, and without any great effort drew himself up
with his hands, so that, provided he could find some support upon
the other side, it would be a simple matter to draw himself through
entirely.
He felt about with his fingers, right and left, and in doing so
disturbed another row of books, which fell upon the floor beneath him.
He had apparently come out in the middle of a large book-shelf. To
the left of him projected the paper-covered door of the trap, at right
angles; above and below were book-laden shelves, and on the right there
had been other books, until his questing fingers had disturbed them.
M. Max, despite his weight, was an agile man. Clutching the shelf
beneath, he worked his way along to the right, gradually creeping
further and further into the darkened room, until at last he could draw
his feet through the opening and crouch sideways upon the shelf.
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