He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Over an old crazy bedstead was thrown a squalid, patchwork counterpane; and upon the counterpane lay a black hood and scarf, a pair of bodice of the cumbrous form in vogue at the beginning of the last century, and some other articles of female attire. You need only answer me truthfully and you have nothing to fear. It was bare of any furnishings. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger.
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