When she tried to speak she found it difficult. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. She took up a book and threw it down again. She picked up the hand cannon. " "I'll never understand. The sounds that reach the ear, and the objects that meet the eye, are all calculated to awaken a train of sad and serious contemplation.
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