She made no attempt to answer her sister’s question. I feel like a fraudulent trustee. Maggot had disappeared. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. She cut a deep gash into her own arm with a steel screw, loosing drops of her own blood onto the floorboards.
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