They will find me dead, yes. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. White calls them. ‘We don’t know who she is. But with returning breath came returning vociferations; and the carpenter, with a faint hope of lessening the clamour by change of scene, took up his lantern, opened the door, and walked out. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones.
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