I bent over him. The house was eerily silent, which alerted her to the idea that someone might be listening. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. Here goes. . Thames unfolded the drawing, smoothed out its creases, and beheld a portrait of himself. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. “That’s the point.
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