Understand me. He stared at her stupidly, forgetting to guard against the tactics he had come to expect from her. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. It was as much accident as anything, but she had killed him. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. The smell of laundry detergent was noticeable, the bed sheets very tightly stretched across the bed, tucked in on three sides. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living.
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