She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. ‘Laisse-moi!’ Impatience swamped him. He did not speak for a moment. A young man with shiny frock coat and very high collar, advanced towards her languidly. But I expect him back every minute. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. He had done it.
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