To have written a short story in a week was rather a remarkable feat. Then he put the paper by. ” She paused again. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person. He sent me flowers. It isn’t what I have been but what I am. ” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. “Those young men startled me at first, because they knew my name. The baby boy was delivered in a sea of black blood, born dead and blue, and strangled by plague.
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