” She opened the car door for herself. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. She felt her forehead repeatedly break out in a light sweat. Laying these carefully aside, he restored the drawer to its place. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. Rain started to pummel the roof of the pavilion, which coalesced into sheets and rumbled to the cement below. ’ ‘He did, you know,’ grinned Gerald.
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