"It is the fiend!" she exclaimed, recoiling. " "I'll tell you what. He was profoundly stirred. “Yes! I must! The thing is becoming a torture to me. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. It was a pity he didn't break his neck, for he was hanged within the year. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction.
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