They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. Ha! ha! ha!" "Jack!" exclaimed Thames, angrily. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit. He understood now that it was a part of her inheritance. She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men.
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