” “It’s dreadful for you to be here,” he said, indicating the yellow presence of the first fog of the year without, “but your aunt told me something of what had happened. Only a few weeks ago there was a bloody battle on the bridge there between the soldiery and the local police. The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. "How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. Montressor’s guests were.
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