But he's witty and amusing, and when reasonably drunk he can play the piano like a Paderewski. The name of his father's murderer is also known to me. So I come round the other way and—Lordy, miss, I’m that sorry I made a mull of it. Occasionally he relit his pipe. How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. "For what?" "I had the paper with me.
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