"The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. Through that she had to go. At last she glanced at a little clock in the corner of the room, and sprang to her feet. The sea was no longer rolling brass; it was bluer than anything he had ever seen. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. Rats and things crawling all over. "I find I was in error. She remained by the door until the walls of the city swallowed the bobbing lantern.
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