Fifty in advance. Her mother had prepared her for everything. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene. But if we had gone under—!” They regarded one another silently, and Ann Veronica had one of her penetrating flashes. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. ‘Her own,’ Gerald replied.
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