“I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. " "With a face as square and flat as a bottle of gin. It has something to do with the fact that my Mom had them when she was only seventeen. He laid down the knife, and fixed a searching and distrustful gaze upon the writer, who continued his task, unconscious of anything having happened. And many of these deaths could be avoided if it were not for superstition. "I will, when I catch him, rely on it," rejoined Wild. She found herself anxious to read more of him, and the next Wednesday she went to the British Museum and hunted first among the half-crown magazines for his essays and then through various scientific quarterlies for his research papers.
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