“You have not seen your sister lately,” he remarked. Her father was holding her waist, smiling. Unlocking it, he entered the chamber, which by no means belied its external appearance. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly. I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. "Then you ought to be thankful to me for the warning. What ho! lights! lights!" And, shouting as he went, he flung himself down stairs. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it.
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