Inhuman as he is, he would not kill her. It was a night well-fitted to their enterprise, calm, still, and profoundly dark. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. He was heartily thankful for it. ‘Exactly like my father. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. A sob was strangled in her throat. ‘Oh, you are making a game with me.
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