” Drummond shook his head in melancholy fashion. The crowner's 'quest sat on her yesterday—and if she hadn't been proved out of her mind, she would have been buried at four lane-ends. The passion of pent-up speech compelled action of some sort. There was no response. She had to resist an impulse of sheer terror, to run out after them and give in. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. I do not blame you for the act.
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