'—'No fear o' that,' thought I. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. Wanton!… This, then, was what her father had meant. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. Just then—I was nervous. Was he pleased?” “Calmly! He said—you won’t mind my telling you?” “Not a bit. Even Shari’s graduation party was put off until later in the summer when they could afford it. For a space he rode the whirligig. She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands.
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