Murder had become nothing to her. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it. I tried it myself, Sir. "Mr. And if you treat me in this way, you will have my death to answer for, as well as the deaths of my husband and child.
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