“I believe,” he said slowly, “that I shall do best to throw myself upon your consideration and tell you the truth. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. She had a bittersweet fragrance, like dusty books and honeysuckle. "No; we never had one; at least, I never saw it. For the young, immortality must seem promising, even wonderful! The grass is always greener on the other side. Then she saw the bodies piled in the corner. “Get me some brandy and my bag. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. . And for me there is only one treasure-house.
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