“Do you know why they are estranged?” Lucy asked. Murder had become nothing to her. His blood would be sweet with it. Take that box, and put it into the carriage yourself. “My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. " "Stand off, Poll," rejoined the woollen-draper; "I don't want to hurt you. I was to blame to carry the matter so far. But it would be too risky. That was how she projected it, and in general terms it seemed plausible and possible.
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