Drummond, who had been about to speak, refrained. " "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. I suppose it depends on her own state of mind. His gaze drawn, Gerald watched him dip to pick up a crushed square of white linen and a starched object that resembled a helmet. Her tone was icy. She found pieces of it on the blacktop near the green dumpster, amazingly small pieces considering the fabric’s original heft. He had done it. “The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to please her. So far the thing was acceptable enough.
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