Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are expenses, and just now business is bad. ‘Whither away, mademoiselle?’ he said grimly, ungently grasping her arm above the elbow. The man was my husband. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me.
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