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. Then he entered her passionately, riding her with exquisite precision. " "Footsteps are approaching," cried Thames. ‘In fact you admitted only that you had no more weapons.
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