She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. \"Really. Michelle said that 161 she had researched the case, even went to the library in the town where it happened and looked it up in the local paper there. The amazing tonic of the thought! From time to time she laid her hand upon Spurlock's forehead: it was still cold.
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