Mr. " "What motive can you have for so vile a deed?" asked Mrs. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. His name was Sebastianus. "This is the explanation of the bloody deed.
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