To divide the agony into two spheres so that one would mitigate the other. It’s an emerald. But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. A handy knife, and a good tot of something sharp to clean out the wound. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. And I’ve read, and thought, and guessed, and looked—until MY innocence—it’s smirched. Water soaked her through in five minutes. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned.
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