He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. Put him in the stocks, and there let him sleep off his drunken fit. Partly, from your confessor; partly, from other sources. Here he was almost stunned by the deafening clamour resounding on all sides. She turned the gas up in her little sitting-room, and sank wearily into an easy chair.
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