She stood among them, watching them and feeling curiously alien to them. Time after time he sent Spurlock into this corner or that; but always the boy regained his feet before the murderous boot could reach the mark. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. “I murdered them, John. No need to do such things. They were sounding more and more like Civic every day.
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