You won't often see white folks. The subterranean level of the Diedermayer house was fully bedecked with every luxury known to mankind. "To-night it is their turn," said Jonathan, binding up his wounded fingers with a handkerchief. Creeping along quickly on his hands and knees, he found the entrance to a covered drain, into which he crept. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. A maidservant held the front door open.
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