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Take, if you please, your own pistol. ” “It ought to make one happy. . Too close, he reasoned, for safety. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. There was nothing in the pockets of the coat. Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. Utter silence answered him. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast.
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