Montressor’s guests were. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. That is where life takes advantage of youth. And, come what will, I'll balk him of the satisfaction of hanging me. The smell that emanated from the opening was abominable. She had trembled on the verge of such a resolution before, but this time quite definitely she made it.
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