Or else I would have finished him. 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. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures. “I loathe afternoon concerts, and——” She was really like her sister he thought, impressed for a moment by the soft brilliancy of her smile. My heart fails me. When he returned, it was always the same. ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. The gun flew from his hand, clacking on the floor.
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