The Iron Bar 397 XVIII. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. Suddenly she had become afraid. ’ ‘Now that’s where you’re wrong. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. The doctor said you wrote. It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought.
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