She went across to the little window again, her back to Melusine. These were less like streets than labyrinths, hewn through an eternal twilight. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. Arrived at his habitation, Jonathan knocked in a peculiar manner at the door, which was instantly opened by the grim-visaged porter just alluded to. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done.
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