After all, it came to him suddenly as a harsh discovery that she might be in a sense regarded as grownup. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. ‘Moi, je vais vous tuer!’ ‘I don’t think so,’ Gerald said through his teeth. I have but to give a hint of that boy's existence in the proper quarter, and his life will not be worth a day's purchase.
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