For a moment she thought of saying yes, and then filled with shame. "I think you're all bewitched," she cried. Pull yourself together now. "But he can't be far off. She hit the villain with it. You dear, dear girl. That's a queer yarn. ’ She sipped at the liquid in her glass, but her eyes remained fixed, rather unnervingly, on Gerald. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. Them young prigs is all alike.
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