He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. In this room was my ruin begun: in this room it should be ended. Disengaging his right arm, Jonathan struck his victim a tremendous blow on the head with the bludgeon, that fractured his skull; and, exerting all his strength, threw him over the rails, to which he clung with the tenacity of despair.
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