" Mrs. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. Hill,” she said graciously. “Nevertheless,” Hill said doggedly, “I am here to speak to you alone. "Now—begin. ” He bent and kissed her hair and paused, and then forced his attention back to the map. It was decrepit and too large. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery.
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