" "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. Panting with effort, she held her point menacingly at Gosse’s chest. The visitor was the hotel manager, who respectfully announced that the doctor was ready for her. Then the foremost bowed and passed on. When her shock and the headache subsided, and she remembered that she had been reading the letter when Gosse had accosted her, she looked for it in vain. Without betraying the slightest confusion, or making a single remark, he quietly resumed his seat. I see.
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