Wood hadn't struck me. Gerald looked at it, then at her face. You’ll end up dead, that’s what. Why? Here was a curtain indeed. . " And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. So many things she saw that her interest stumbled rather than leaped from object to object.
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