He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. Prison was beastly. What was it she had expected? Surely her moods were getting a little out of hand. Even that he was an interfering person, if he walked through that door this moment, she would fling herself at him and weep all over his chest. Here was an instrument which might be of the greatest service to him in accomplishing his design. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. She took up a book and threw it down again. Inquiring for Mrs.
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