Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me. I’m six hundred and forty-eight years old, John! I should have never seduced a young boy, let alone expected him to keep my secrets for me. ’ ‘Oh, she’ll be safe enough, Gerald. Every time you mention the father, she turns into marble. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. . For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted.
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