Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. ‘Didn’t mean it, love. "Enough!" cried Jonathan, eagerly pocketing the memorandum. “Pray accept my apologies.
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