She was reasonably certain why. There were mysterious sounds, all of them musical. “I don’t know. “Yet it is my last evening, and I think —if you are sure that you would like to have me—that I will risk it. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. There is no need of your friend to kill you, imbecile, because I shall do so this minute. Splendidly.
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