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Gosse sagged under the impact, knocking over the card table, and falling to sit, half stunned, the discharged pistol flying from his slackened grasp. “She found my collection of witchcraft books under my bed and threw them away. That there would eventually be a lover Ruth knew; and she waited his appearance upon the scene, waited with an impatience which was both personal and literary. At one moment, it seemed as if the flying bark was about to put to shore. I was grateful. It is I who am persecuted by the man who calls himself your husband. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. "I was afraid it would be so. ‘She hasn’t said so, but I presume Valade had got hold of all the useful papers,’ Gerald went on.
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