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Chapter XIX. Company at Dinner
The dining-room was gloomy as a vault. The candles, burning in branching silver sticks on the white cloth, might have been tapers burning for the dead. A tapestry of flickering lights and shadows seemed to drape the room; ever and anon the leaping firelight or the waving candle-flame would be reflected from some piece of plate, or crystal, or gilded frame. I saw the colour s............
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