Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Though Lucy refused to personally implicate her, Mr. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. Not a star could be discerned, but, in their stead, streaks of lurid radiance, whence proceeding it was impossible to determine, shot ever and anon athwart the dusky vault, and added to the ominous and threatening appearance of the night. “Great!” Cathy squealed.
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