9. My motive in coming hither is to serve you, and save your life. His shoulders were bent, his face was furrowed with wrinkles. As to Mrs. “WHAT a place! “Stuffy isn’t the word for it. ” He uttered thoughtfully. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. “Then either this man shot himself or some one else shot him immediately before your arrival—or rather if it was not himself the person who did it was in the room, say two minutes, before you arrived. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love.
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