” The detective went down on his hands and knees. “I cannot but conclude,” he said, “that your errand involved the recital to my wife of some trouble in which you find yourself. From this spot a road, more resembling the drive through a park than a public thoroughfare, led him gradually to the brow of Dollis Hill. "They're about to murder your child —your child, I tell you! Do you comprehend what I say, Joan?" "I've hurt my head," replied Mrs. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe.
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