s buried, but his spirit seemed to haunt him. He felt as if it were floating by his side, and pushing him in the direction of the Devil's Punch Bowl. Bill stood in the middle of the road uncertain where to go. He took from his pocket the photograph of the girl with the pathetic eyes. Then he looked…
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s buried, but his spirit seemed to haunt him. He felt as if it were floating by his side, and pushing him in the direction of the Devil's Punch Bowl. Bill stood in the middle of the road uncertain where to go. He took from his pocket the photograph of the girl with the pathetic eyes. Then he looked at the letter, signed "Mary," and at the diagram. He felt bewitched, for the eyes appeared to glance for a moment towards the north-west, where the old man died; the writing of the letter seemed to slope towards the same point; and the arrow on the diagram shot straight for that goal. Fate was too strong for him, but he would give.
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