Entranced, he stared at the name. “I’m going to kill your weakness for you. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. . He had barely said, \"Anytime,\" before she shut the door rather rudely in his face. She was about to rush to his side, when she saw his clenched hands rise and fall upon the sand repeatedly. Here was no crooked soul; a little weak perhaps, impulsive beyond common, but fundamentally honest.
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