No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. It was not without considerable demur and delay on the part of Sharples that the carpenter and his companion could gain admittance to the round-house. "In this pit," he added, pointing to the chasm below, "your brother is buried. Quite ordinary. Black blood and white bone flew into the corners of the crypt, slathering the dead faces of the corpses left piled in the corner.
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