“Maternity,” she said, “has been our undoing. ‘I don’t know that I dare. ’ Her conversation was wonderful, Gerald decided. . There were doorways to peer into, dim cluttered holes with shadowy forms moving about, potters and rug-weavers. . I will be up with my wife and daughter after lunch. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. ’ Gerald let out a sigh both relieved and satisfied and repeated the name. She had already killed more than she wanted to count, yet she had counted them still.
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