Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. “I’m really very sorry. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. "Look at it!" he felt like screaming. She did not see the metal pole swing toward the back of her skull, nor did she feel her own blood spoiling her light hair after the dull crack of metal broke her flesh. She let out a wail. " "My dear," observed Wood, "you should be more charitable—" "Charitable!" repeated his wife, "that's your constant cry.
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