Iná looked about, taking in the long sparse hall with phosphorescent globes glowing in their sconces. There were no windows in the hall. Come to think of it, there had been no windows in her room either, or in the passageway.
We have walked two days, which means we are soon to reach the swamp. The swamp of ghosts, some call it, but what lies in the swamp are not ghosts. They are worse than ghosts. They are foul spirits, who wish to slip into your body and keep it. I do not tell Kuyka this, because silence is much better than noise, and because I do not wish to see him act like men do and state how unafraid he is.
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