There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. ‘Not kill me, I mean. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. . “I WILL be arrested! I WON’T go home!” the little old lady was screaming over and over again. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute.
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