"Was there any other woman back there in the States?" "Nary a female. But you,” he continued, moving imperceptibility a little nearer to her, “you are mine. She looked at him curiously. Reaction set in and she leapt at him, beating at his chest with her fists. The guests congregated within the night-cellar were, in fact, little better than thieves; but thieves who confined their depredations almost exclusively to the vessels lying in the pool and docks of the river. It was a young girl who overheard me when I was on my third shopkeeper who answered my question. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.
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