She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men. She watched as his headlights flooded the driveway and many minutes after his car was gone. “There ought to be a Censorship of Books. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. A silence ensued. That's my maxim; and it's the maxim of every honest man. ’ Hilary’s jaw dropped open, and he stood stupidly staring, the nun’s clothing dangling from his hand. Accepting his glass from the butler, Gerald glanced at Mrs Sindlesham and saw a dimple peep out. In a little while he and she were talking quite easily and agreeably. ‘And that object confirms me in the belief that it is not I who will shortly meet my maker. ‘That is my mother.
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