“My dear girl,” he said, in a tone of patient reasonableness, “you are a mere child. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. “No, I administered poisons to you according to the ancient tradition. ” “Poor you!” said Ann Veronica. Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. “Yes,” he said, “I want to get away.
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