At the front door, instead of knocking—there was no bell—Graves drew a rusty key from his pocket and inserted it in the lock. They found themselves in a small entry, uncarpeted and dingy.
“We’ll go upstairs,” said Graves.
Arrived on the landing, he threw open a door, and ushered in our hero.
“This will be your room,” he said.
Frank looked around in dismay.
It was a large, square room, uncarpeted, and containing only a bed, two chairs and a washstand, all of the cheapest and rudest manufacture.
“I hope you will soon feel at home here,” said Graves. “I’ll go down and see if I can find something to eat.”
He went out, locking the door behind him
“What does this mean?” thought Frank, with a strange sensation.