CHAPTER XIII. Towards this box Sharples directed his steps, and, unlocking a hatch in the door, disclosed a recess scarcely as large, and certainly not as clean, as a dog-kennel. There is some deep treachery hidden beneath his words. Mind you don't stir till supper's over. She wormed her way past Sebastian, glanced at her mother’s blackened face, her obscenely naked body bulging with yellow and black buboes under the arms and in the groin that oozed stinking fluid. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. The resemblance was amazing! And some man—he was good-looking—was in the background. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens.
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