Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. “You’re great, Lucy! I had no idea you were so great!” John exclaimed. ‘Oh, mon dieu. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents.
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