“Drive to 13, Montague Street, cabman,” she ordered. Everything was blurred. " "Wood!" exclaimed Trenchard,—"of Wych Street?" "The same. . Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. "Did you ever see the like of her?" "No," answered McClintock, gravely. I am certainly no ghost. ‘I begin to ask myself why it is that I wish to become of these people. " "Oh, Heaven!" exclaimed Jack. “I don’t believe there is one.
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