Mr. " "Ah!" ejaculated the widow, hiding her face. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead. What’s that?” They both stood listening. "My heart," rejoined Thames, firmly; "which now tells me I am in the presence of his murderer. "Raise your vice, and lave off coughin'," added Terence.
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