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He found, however, that now the time had come he utterly lacked the courage to attempt any such speech. Drummond was telling me about the way old Ferringhall rounded upon them all at the club. It’s all nonsense. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. For hours he seemed to have pleasant dreams of open skies and airplanes, but then the dreams would disintegrate into fleshy charnel house nightmares where he could hear her calling to him through a fog. Contents Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter One In the quiet of an autumn afternoon, the deserted mansion slept. I'll keep it for your sake.
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