Then she fell into a fever of remorse for the habit of bad language she had acquired. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. She could not say a word, much less move. “I want to make love for the first time tonight. Ramage, I came here—I didn’t suppose for one moment you would dare —” “Nonsense! That is your mistake! You are too intellectual. She quickly strangled him with the piano wire as he looked at her, his lips open as if to scream, but his larynx had been intentionally sliced. ‘Ask him. A sob was strangled in her throat. She feared he might take her tears as a sign of weakness.
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