I thought my sister and her murdered husband dragged me hither, to this very room, and commanded you to slay me. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. “MY DEAR MISS PELLISSIER,— “To-morrow the six months will be up. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose.
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