The silence grew unbearable, so she asked, \"What is your surname, John?\" \"My surname? You mean my last name?\" \"Yes. ‘Thought you were going to break in here,’ he said, in an impatient whisper. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast. The feeling of last days grew stronger with her as their number diminished. "Hush!—come hither, and I'll tell you. A pair of long-lashed blue eyes studied them both as she slowly brought her hands down to rest by her sides. F. But here’s what is different this time. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended.
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