“And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. The last of Jarvis’s harlots must have departed in a hurry, for she had apparently left a roomful of clothes. " The hint was not lost upon Wood. On regaining his breath, he began to consider whither chance had led him; and, rubbing his eyes to clear his sight, he perceived a sombre pile, with a lofty tower and broad roof, immediately in front of him.
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