“It’s all dirt that washes off, dear, but it’s dirt. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha. I wish she wouldn’t look like that at us over her glasses. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. To vault over the pews was the work of a moment; and having gained the entry leading to the Red Room he passed through the first door; his progress being only impeded by the pile of broken stones, which he himself had raised.
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