" McClintock preferred to put it thus. " In an angle of the Stone Hall was the Iron Hold, a chamber containing a vast assortment of fetters and handcuffs of all weights and sizes. “Going to visit our little friend the vampire?” “What?” He asked, incredulous. "What does he say?" roared the long drover. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. The houses were older, the shops gloomier, and the thoroughfare narrower, it is true; but the bustle, the crowd, the street-like air was the same.
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