"I can," replied Trenchard. I miss them so. “What do you mean, Annabel? You only knew Mr. He rose deliberately to his feet and confronted them. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. Disillusion stands in one doorway of our house and Mockery in the other.
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