Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. ‘The gatehouse? But why must you move him at all?’ ‘Listen, missie. . Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. Then he understood. ’ Lucy giggled. It proved to be a human head, though with scarcely a vestige of the features remaining. “Not possible. ” “I can assure you,” he answered, “that it isn’t a habit of mine. She has also been afflicted with occasional returns of her terrible malady.
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