Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. I have yet another. But now it’s beads by the cask—like the hold of a West African trader. Empty, silly, coarse brutes. ’ Then Hilary became serious again. " "Why, what the devil's this?" vociferated Jonathan, looking up.
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