Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. It penetrated the skin; benumbed the flesh; paralysed the faculties. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. Loving was better than that.
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