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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Dead Man's Rock"


They were about thirty in number, and from their appearance I judged
them to belong to very different classes of society. Some were
poorly and even miserably attired, others adorned with gorgeous, and
not a few with valuable, jewellery. Here stood one who from his
clothes seemed to be a poor artisan; there lounged a fop in evening
dress. There was also a sprinkling of women, and not a few wore
masks of some black stuff concealing the upper part of their faces.
But the strangest feature of the company was that one and all were
entirely and even breathlessly watching the table in their midst.
Even the idlest scarcely raised his eyes to greet us as we entered,
and for a moment or two I paused at the door as one who had no
business with this strange assemblage. During these few moments I
was able to grasp the main points of what I saw.
The guests were grouped around the table, some sitting and others
standing behind their chairs. The table itself was oblong in shape,
and at its head sat the most extraordinary woman it had ever been my
lot to behold.


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