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The excerpt represents the core issue or deciding factor on which you must meditate, and is drawn from The White Moll by Frank L. Packard: set again in grim, hard, perplexed lines. There seemed something
unnatural, something menacingly weird, something even uncanny about
it all. Perhaps it was because it seemed as though she could so
surely foresee the end. Gypsy Nan would not live through the night.
Something told her that. The woman's masquerade, for whatever
purpose it had been assumed, was over. "You'll play the game,
won't you? You'll see me through?" There seemed something
pitifully futile in those words now!
The officer returned.
"It's all right," he said. "How's she seem?"
Rhoda Gray shook her head.
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