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He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks. “I murdered them, John. The spinsters were not kind; they were only curious because she was odd and wore a dress thirty years out of date. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. . “Your affectionate “FATHER. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. This man was apparently not sure whether he was Meysey Hill or not. “I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand.
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