” His walk became a jovial saunter. The room was intimate and wonderful to her with its shadows now cast over the girlish menagerie of stuffed animals. He bowed over her hand, venturing to drop a kiss on it’s leathery surface. That's a queer yarn. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired.
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