Before leaving the place he looked upwards, and could just discern the blue vault and pale stars of Heaven through an iron grating at the top. A rock gave way to deep water. Following his guide, Sir Rowland found himself in a large and lofty apartment, the extent of which he could not entirely discern until lights were set upon the table. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it. “Are you sick, Michelle? Maybe you should have stayed home.
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