" "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. The threadbare remainders of the dinner discussion hovered over the topics of obsessive fans of the science fiction and horror genres.
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