\"Stop smiling, you're scaring me. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. Lucy had passed the house once on the sidewalk, on a rare day when he was shoveling snow.
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