Shortly Ruth and Spurlock took the way home. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. In the centre of the upper gallery was a spacious saloon, appropriated to the governors of the asylum. Rhea went down, screeching and clawing at the air for the sword, which clanked heavily on the ground. Laying these carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place. .
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