"No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood. “Once or twice. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. 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. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far.
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