" "It'll be over in a few minutes," rejoined Jonathan, impatiently; "in fact, it'll be over too soon for me. ” Then she looked up at him with frightened eyes. The summons was instantly answered by a shop-boy. Diane Vorsack tried to disguise the fact that she was livid, her daughter’s buffoonery having driven off the prestigious dinner guests before the after-dinner drinks could be served. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. If she spoke to a policeman she did not know what would ensue. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. ’ ‘Who, Joan, who? Of whom do you speak?’ ‘Mrs Sindlesham. Lucy vomited onto the floor at the sight of her mother dying, the black spots expanding across her corpse.
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