But no matter how you phrase it, the end is the same. "I'd forgotten. ” Ennison took the document, tore it half in two without looking at it, and flung it back in Hill’s face. When she reflected that Mr. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. I can be a gentleman.
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