"It's the boy's death-warrant," observed Jonathan, with a sinister smile. ‘Comment? What do you say?’ Gerald looked down into her face, and found himself touched by the uncertainty he saw there. Shari was snoring, the pill having worked its magic. But, in spite of his general insensibility to such matters, Quilt could not help commenting upon the delicious perfume wafted from the numerous flower-beds past which they were driving. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. Really they are the most beautiful things in the world.
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