Why not? Imagine I’ve had a fit of hysteria—and that I’ve come round. The buboes broke and God took Lucia's mother. I will take her away and make her serve me as my wife. ‘Indeed?’ Gerald said politely. ’ ‘But you don’t look anything like her,’ burst out Mrs Ibstock. The one I have is a duplicate. And empty. But still you have told me of my real mother when I thought it was Suzanne Valade.
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