Of course there were goats. “How dared you do yourself this injustice?” “I did it for her sake,” she answered. He swore that I was his wife, and—I shot him, Nigel, as his arms were closing around me. More strange stories were told of it than of any other house in London. I can't invent; the thing won't come. She bolted awake in the large bed which was awash in a sea of silks, furs, and red curtains.
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