You—It’s jolly of you to confide in me. “I know nothing about your wife. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ’ ‘Wait!’ Leaning forward, Hilary tapped on the panel. . Men are against her. "Heaven have mercy on his soul!" ejaculated Wood. .
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