She had found the mausoleum underneath a broken monument. It was now whitening, hissing, and seething like an enormous cauldron. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. She had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. I deemed it more prudent to send him to the Dark House than to bring him here, in case of any search after him by his adoptive father—the carpenter Wood. This Joan would hold them for a little.
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