” “I thought Mr. Gracious, there’s the gong. You shall not take me alive. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night.
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