Lord Frederick Leighton The Garden of the Hesperides painting

Lord Frederick Leighton The Garden of the Hesperides paintingLord Frederick Leighton The Fisherman and the Syren paintingLord Frederick Leighton Solitude painting
wooden cases had been stacked here partly for decoration and partly to conceal the entrance to the port-wine closet.Fric pressed a hidden latch-release button. One stack of wooden cases swung inward.Beyond lay a room the size of a walk-in closet. for two or three days, however, he would start to feel that he’d been buried alive. He’d collapse into a screaming fit of claustrophobia and eventually, descending into madness, he would probably eat himself alive, beginning with his toes and working upward.Unnerved by the direction their second conversation had taken, he’d forgotten to ask Mysterious Caller how long he could expect to be under siege.He retreated from the port closet and pulled shut the clever wine-case door.At the back was a rack of port wines fifty, sixty, and seventy years old.Ports were dessert wines. Fric preferred chocolate cake.He assumed that even in the late 1930s, when this house had been built, the nation had not been plagued by gangs of port-wine thieves. The closet had most likely been concealed just for the fun of it.This secret chamber, smaller than the fur vault, might make an adequate hiding place—depending on how long he would need to remain hidden. The space would be comfortable enough for a few hours.If he had to stay in here