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. Queer world. “You remember our first meeting?” “Yes,” he answered hoarsely. “Will you come in, Sir John. ’ But she reckoned without the fellow Trodger.
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