"Pick up that blade, Nab," vociferated Wild, finding himself hotly pressed, "and stab him. Miss Mary to the life. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. Lucy stood in front of the piano. “I wonder if you will?” “Let me say one thing,” he said.
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