" "My death will lie at your door," remarked Jackson to the carpenter. Each human contact leaves some indelible mark. “I’ll have to pay it. I suppose this is what she learns in her infernal London colleges. We are alone, Sir Rowland," he added, snuffing the candles, glancing cautiously around, and lowering his tone, "and what you confide to me shall never transpire,—at least to your disadvantage.
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