He laughed once or twice at himself as he paced backwards and forwards. ’ But I made sure it was you. 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. I naturally want to do it up in proper style. . ’ The lodgekeeper’s jaw fell open. It was horrible. “I feel justified then,” he said, “in annexing his chair. Now it occurred to him that to show her the sealed letter would be a better way. All the same, I don’t admit it.
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