While he was thus occupied, Thames, prompted by an unaccountable feeling of curiosity, took up the penknife which the other had just used, and examined the haft. “This has almost killed your father. Her gaze flickered down to his pistol. She remembered Taber's hat. “Yes, John. You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. The next weekend arrived and she made her decision. If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. In a very definite sense we are in the wrong —hopelessly in the wrong. And with his clenched hand he struck him a violent blow in the face. I almost died from this flu.
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