He wore a black tail coat buttoned tightly over his chest, and a large diamond pin sparkled in a white satin tie which had seen better days. Why, he can scarcely be twenty. In the first place, it will be damnably dull. “Either I want to shout,” said Mr. You are my prisoner, murderer. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity. "Well, my pretty dears," he added, "—to see your husband, eh? You must make the most of your time.
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