He could hardly open the envelope, he trembled so. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. Sebastian looked up and stood. The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. “We’re going to be found out someday.
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