The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. He needed to laugh, but only she laughed as he chuckled weakly. Oh, it is unbearable. ‘Least of all, one who takes advantage of another’s misfortune. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. 'Mrs.
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