"What was it?" He was insistent. CHAPTER VII. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. The world had not passed by but had gone around it in a tremendous half-circle. But the free arm of the stranger hit him a flail-like blow on the chest and sent him sprawling into the yielding sand. . "You are free," said he, "that grating forms a ladder, by which you may descend in safety.
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