The thought of beauty became an obsession. ” He nodded. ‘Is there a resemblance?’ ‘This is Mary Remenham?’ ‘That is my late niece, yes. “No, John, you won’t understand. It was a sort of cooking-room, with an immense fire-place flanked by a couple of cauldrons, and was called Jack Ketch's Kitchen, because the quarters of persons executed for treason were there boiled by the hangman in oil, pitch, and tar, before they were affixed on the city gates, or on London Bridge. Jack's nose was broad and flat; Darrell's straight and fine as that of Antinous.
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