I killed him, Nigel. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. " In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. "Good Lord!—cannibals?" "Aye. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. ” He drank.
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