’ He grimaced. "But I wish her hand had been as deadly as yours. He whispered in her ear. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. ‘Read that,’ and threw the telegram at me, so that it went into the tureen. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. ‘Why did you bring him? I hate him.
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