“I’m not going to kill you, John. I thought I'd been sufficiently explicit," continued Jonathan. ‘You do not use your head, Emile,’ she said flatly. . 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.
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