" "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. Her time and effort was justly rewarded, because the hard cold facts she knew about neighborhood intrigues were better than fictional soap operas. \" She was surprised that he had noticed her existence as early as her arrival at the Beck house. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. Ah Cum's glance returned to the girl.
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