He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. Very good. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. ’ ‘Why did you not claim it yourself?’ asked Gerald.
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