He had thought it might have that effect. But kill me rather than commit this outrage. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. CHAPTER XXVI. She found an old drunk wandering the streets. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. “It’s—private.
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