” Hill staggered to his feet and drew a folded paper from his pocket. ’ It was a wait of several minutes while Melusine chafed. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard.
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