"I will not submit to be thus interrogated," said Winifred, angrily. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. The evening was warm and inviting, one meant to be spent outdoors. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. Maggot.
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