The Infernal Powers of the Old British Grave

"I remembered the bitter throes that had racked my stiff joints in the old british grave as never mortal rooms yet twisted common sinew and muscle. And then this tawny, handsome yellow lioness on the throne where should have been a pale, black norman girl, o hell and fiends," he writes. "With a wild, fierce cry of shame and anger, one long yell of pain and disappointment, i tore the cursed wallet from my neck and hurled it down there savagely at her feet."