He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building. Where was this kindly world she had drawn so rosily in fancy? Disillusion everywhere. Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. Satisfied with his scrutiny, he produced a pocket-flask, and taking off the silver cup with which it was mounted, filled it with the contents of the flask, and then seizing the thin arm of the sleeper, rudely shook it. She could not realize what she saw. “Quite different.
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