But they were old enough to start remembering you as mother, and we cannot have that. "Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. Chairs were overturned. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion. She listened with growing apprehension to the tale that Gerald told, omitting any mention of pistols and daggers, and at the end delivered herself of various expletives highly unsuited to a lady of her advanced years. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken.
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