Ennison, or any other young man. ’ A giggle answered him. If only there had not been this single torturing thought—a mere pin-prick, but still curiously persistent. Then he rallied, smiling a little. “Girls. The room was dark and dusty. Kneebone, I'll make one of the party. It was a dark mysterious place, and what it was used for no one exactly knew; but it was called by those who had seen it the Well Hole. I give you the plain, unadulterated truth.
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