Having watched the funeral at some distance, Jonathan fancied he could discern the figure of Jack; but not being quite sure, he entered the church. Over the gateway towards Snow Hill, were two strong wards, called the Castle and the Red Room. It never is. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth.
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