That he was immolating Ruth on the altar of his conscience never broke in upon his thought for consideration. It was approached from the street by a flight of broad stone steps, leading to a ponderous door, plated with iron, and secured on the inner side by huge bolts, and a lock, with wards of a prodigious size. In no way could he be said to contribute to the gaiety of the little party. Die, indeed! We’re going to do work; we’re going to unfold about each other; we’re going to have children. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. —'They can't, I tell you,' says I, in a bit of a passion; 'it's unconstitutional.
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