She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still. Before her was a great Gothic portal. " "Why, surely you can't be in earnest, Captain. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. "Och! he's a broth of a boy!" "Why, I thought he'd broken your head, Terry?" "Phooh! that's nothing? A piece o' plaster'll set all to rights; and Terry O'Flaherty's not the boy to care for the stroke of a supple-jack. Great stone staircases leading no one knew whither, and long gloomy passages, impressed the occasional visitor with the idea that he was traversing a building of vast extent; and, though this was not the case in reality, the deception was so cleverly contrived that it seldom failed of producing the intended effect. The boiling under her stern, however, told him nothing.
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