Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. He also knew that she was the one responsible for the murders of Diane, Eric, and Michelle Vorsack on a single night. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. ‘Merci, dieu. To the poor carpenter it seemed an endless distance. "I understand," she said. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. No man knew whence she had come nor why.
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