Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. A mate? A brother-lover to tromp about the world with? “I cannot. "Come with me, my love, come—come," cried his mother, seizing his hand, and endeavouring to force him away. “Don’t tell anyone I told you this. “I killed him. " "Fool!" cried Wild, taking up the body, "what are you afraid of? After all," he added, pausing, "he may be of more use to me alive than dead. I can no longer bear to address you by that formal madame.
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