“I have hurt my father,” she said; “I have hurt my aunt. Prudence Remenham. Instantly she seized the poker and made a desperate effort to get them out again. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. I asked him—to take me away. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real. "He stands before you," rejoined her son.
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