Wood, glancing angrily at her husband. She would write to Gerald. "Not so;" answered Wild. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. I beg that you will consider me your friend. She turned out the electric light and gained the hall. Her little white hand stole across the table. When the prisoner was brought into this room, he was again questioned; but, continuing contumacious, preparations were made for inflicting the torture.
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