His hand shook so violently that he dropped the handkerchief; and he let it lie on the floor because he dared not stoop. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. "And equally easy to prove it," replied Jack, giving him the paper he had abstracted from Wild.
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