"Oh! that was all, was it?" said the turnkey, quietly reseating himself. He wasn't satisfied with an assured income from the paper-mills your grandfather left us. But Jack was too nimble for him. 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. ‘I think that was what began his downfall.
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