’ ‘For shame, Hilary,’ admonished his fiancée, casting a pitying glance at the refugees. Covering his face with a crape mask, and taking the candle from his associate, Jack entered the room; and, pistol in hand, stepped up to the bed, and approached the light to the eyes of the sleepers. It was a motor accident—a fatal motor accident the evening papers called it. “I feel fat! I already gained five pounds last week because I was stuck in bed with my ear infection. He seemed to be thinking hard.
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