No.” “How do they know she● hadn’t?” “Because she wa●s shot herself—in the back.”  

癜Then who killed him?” “They——” He set ■his teeth, the sweat standing out on ■his forehead. ?/p>

癐’m not going to● tell you any more about it no■w. Wait—wait——” “If you don’t tell me,● I’m going out through102 that door a●nd walk until I get to New York. Who k●illed him?” “They say he kille●d himself.” “Killed himself?● I never heard of such ridiculous nonsense.” S●he was speaking as quietly and ev●enly as though she were discussing th■e labour problem, frozen to a calm more te●rrible than any madness. “Why should he ●have killed h

imself?” “My God, how do I kn■ow? There was no one else to kill hi●m—the pistol was still in his hand.”■ “Where were the rest of the party?●” “There was no one else in the part■y. The proprietor said that they ■came alone, arrived at about nine■ and ordered supper—it was afte●r ten when they heard the sho●ts.” “The proprietor proba■bly did it himself,” said Anne Carver soft●ly. “You let them say these things about Derry ■without contradic

chief had   癞Lola’ on it.” “Had she k■illed him?” “

tion—you, who ●know that he would die rather than give pain t■o any wretched little animal that lives?” “I● can’t believe it, Anne. I can’t believe it●—but what else in God’s name can I ●believe?” “You can believe what you pl■ease; and you evidently pleas■e to believe something more filthy than any● nightmare that I have ever had.” “You are ?/p>

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