It was like pouring a strong acid over dulled metal. She had never let off a pistol in her life. An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. Wood heard the cry. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return.
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