And yet she knew it was not fair to call her a foolish girl. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. Naturally it all came out then. He tried again. Her first orders were to summon the rest of her servants to make immediate preparations for her departure for Lancashire. He screamed in pain, doubling over with a howl as she stumbled out of the bed.
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