On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese. When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. He tasted like cinders and ash, but not of smoke. Sebastian, as doctor, was constantly around the sick and the dying. He felt hands tugging at him, mysterious creatures with long fingers and sharp nails that pulled at his flesh. “It is nothing of any importance.
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