Chapter 15 THE CHURCHYARD

Methought I walked, about the mid of night,

Into a churchyard.

Webster: The White Devil.

Lights streamed through the chancel window as the sexton entered the churchyard, darkly defining all the ramified tracery of the noble Gothic arch, and illumining the gorgeous dyes of its richly-stained glass, profusely decorated with the armorial bear

            
            

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