Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. Strange gurgle-like noises emanated from the crypt. “Anything is better than this—this stifled life down here. I am quite indiscriminate, I assure you. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it.
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