“I am lonely. You go cheer him up. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time. Some foul murder has been committed. His only warning was a gleam of silver in the faint spill of light from the house above. Marvel, who proceeded to the cart, and took his seat upon the coffin. As she hoisted her skirts near her waist, she thought ruefully of the last time she had worn such an elaborate gown, sometime near 1910 when petticoats were still considered hip everyday garb.
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