With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner. ‘Hadn’t meant you to know,’ said the nun gruffly.
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