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Then she put more coal on, piled it over the ashes, and stood once more upright. He too, when she had disappeared, called a carriage. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. That was the only sound he heard. How long he sat there, reeling off this drivel, he never knew. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. But he could only utter an inarticulate exclamation. Now you will learn the result.
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