“I believe she’s dressing up-stairs—now. He had often read about it, and once he had incorporated it in a story, that invisible force which sent men to prison and to the gallows, when a tongue controlled would have meant liberty indefinite. “Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. “You seem to forget that my sister is—married. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. “He wants me to have dinner at his parent’s house tonight,” still looking at a series of spots on the carpeting. I wanted you to know. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda.
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