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riffin was lost. He ran pell-mell into the city, but the road branched and forked and at every turn he was hemmed about as by a thicket, and could see no steeple, nor choose one road from another except that once he heard a chuckle, and an iron skull peeped around a corner, eyes flashing, and he veered away and did not look back except once to see men feeding it, with buckets. And he ran, and stopped, and ran on ever deeper into the rifts and chasms of the great city and ever deeper into despair.