At this juncture, Sir Cecil and his followers appeared at the threshold. I told him the truth. But he could only discern a black and shapeless mass, floating upon the water at a little distance, which, to his bewildered fancy, appeared absolutely standing still. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. But she did not talk readily, and in order to say something she plunged a little, and felt she plunged.
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