\"Oh. You have shown an almost feverish anxiety to eliminate from your personal appearance all that reminded me of you —when we first met. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me.
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