“Nor am I now,” he answered. The afternoon was her own; but from eight until midnight she sat beside the patient. On this I am resolved. It belonged to his father, and was worn by him on the night he was murdered. The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. She had come to the end of her resources.
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