—Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. “Will you come in, Sir John. I should as soon think of trusting a woman. Vorsack rose from the table and departed for the bathroom, mumbling something about a Tylenol. He stood upon the threshold, dangling his eye-glasses in his fingers, stolid, imperturbable, mildly interrogative. The necessity which had previously existed of leaving the ghastly evidence of the murderous deed undisturbed,—the presence of the mangled corpse,—the bustle of the inquest, at which her attendance was required,—all these circumstances produced a harrowing effect upon the young girl's imagination. Get out your pad and pencil. Things that you and the nuns would not think about for—’ She stopped, biting back the words “for a young girl”.
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