Before that there had been wild enough stories--accounts of mysterious trips to Tibet, the African interior, the Arabian desert, the Amazon valley, Alaska, and certain little-known islands of the South Pacific, plus claims of having read such monstrous and half-fabulous books as the prehistoric Pnakotic fragments and the Dhol chants attributed to malign and non-human Leng--but nothing in all this had been so unmistakably insane as what had cropped out that June evening under the spell of the whisky.
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