Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. His name was Peter. ’ ‘Take care,’ warned Hilary, his eyes on his improvised bandage. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. ’ For a moment or two there was dead silence in the parlour. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. *** Madame la Comtesse de St Erme regarded the English major with a lacklustre eye, Gerald thought.
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