” He shook his head, and his eyes and the mouth under the black mustache wrinkled with his smile. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred. “Have you killed recently?” He was curious, scared. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. Sometimes her straying mind would become astonishingly active—embroidering bright and decorative things that she could say to Capes; sometimes it passed into a state of passive acquiescence, into a radiant, formless, golden joy. To-morrow night —or rather to-night, for we are fast verging on another day—I propose to lure him out of the house by a stratagem which I am sure will prove infallible; and, then, what so easy as to knock him on the head. In the retrospect she was amazed to think how things had gone to pieces, for at the outset she had been quite prepared to go home again upon terms.
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