Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. The movie droned on, the sounds becoming manageable except for the frequent high-pitched screams of young girls when a poltergeist manifestation would leap out of a shadow. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. It was on the eve of that memorable rebellion which broke forth, two months later, in Scotland.
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