She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. She saw Lucy darkening her doorstep and stood from the recliner. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. "I need not remind you, Sir Rowland," replied Wild, "that you had two sisters— Aliva and Constance.
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