The Lair of the White Worm by Bram Stoker

At the top of the Brow, beneath them as they looked down, they saw a shining mass of white, which looked strangely out of place amongst such wreckage as they had been viewing. It appeared so strange that Adam suggested trying to find a way down, so that they might see it more closely.

“We need not go down; I know what it is,” Sir Nathaniel said. “The explosions of last night have blown off the outside of the cliffs– that which we see is the vast bed of china clay through which the Worm originally found its way down to its lair. I can catch the glint of the water of the deep quags far down below. Well, her ladyship didn’t deserve such a funeral–or such a monument.”

The horrors of the last few hours had played such havoc with Mimi’s nerves, that a change of scene was imperative–if a permanent breakdown was to be avoided.

“I think,” said old Mr. Salton, “it is quite time you young people departed for that honeymoon of yours!” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke.

Mimi’s soft shy glance at her stalwart husband, was sufficient answer.

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