Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. “It really seems as if we shall have to put down marigolds altogether next year,” Aunt Molly repeated three times, “and do away with marguerites. Sheppard: "nothing can save me.
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