Listen to me, Winifred. It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. Her wedding gown! She wondered if the spirit of the unknown mother looked down upon her. "It is useless to deny it," replied Jack. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. He was snoring stupidly. There was only one prisoner in the ward. A black-garbed figure crept forward, noiselessly, towards Gosse’s back. Somehow.
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