On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road. Melusine started back, blinking. It is but a wild threat. In the subdued light she could not tell whether he was asleep or awake. You'll find me at supper. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies.
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