They are their mother’s sons. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below.
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