"I have killed her," cried Jack. The place, in which they stood, was a small entrance-chamber, cut off, like the segment of a circle, from the main apartment, (of which it is needless to say it originally constituted a portion,) by a stout wooden partition. ‘And just who is Leonardo?’ ‘How in God’s name should I know?’ demanded Roding irascibly. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs.
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