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. But I don't look for peace on this side the grave. Hope reared. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. That is how I learned that there were such things as novels. .
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