” Lucy looked at the small shelf which was jammed with thick paperbacks by every major horror novelist of the twentieth century. ” “How old-fashioned of you, Lucy. ‘You’re right. Neither of them believed me. ‘It is Yol—’ She broke off abruptly, her face collapsing into an expression of acute consternation. Her back stiffened. Montressor’s guests were. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. Gosse would have killed me, and perhaps in the fight I might kill him. ‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked.
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