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Certainly, we—that is Jarvis and I— knew nothing of it until after Mary’s death. 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. E. ’ ‘You ain’t never,’ gasped Pottiswick. I think she might be up to something. " "Enough!" rejoined Blueskin. It is quite light yet, and I want to have one more look at that angry red sun.
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