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The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. Beside me on Anna’s table was a pistol. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. Constantly sick with the croup or diaper rash. ’ Gosse smiled and Melusine read triumph there. Immeasurable disgust possessed her.

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