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The period of repression was over. 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. "Is Thames returned from London?" "Not yet," replied the other; "but I expect him every minute. I had gone further than I meant to—with some Englishmen. ‘You cannot be André Valade if you tell them I am one of this family.
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