What else was there lurked in shadows and deep places; if in some mood of reverie it came out into the light, it was presently overwhelmed and hustled back again into hiding. They heard his footsteps descending the stone staircase, growing fainter and fainter. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled.
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