” Lucy replied. Something like a snarl crossed his face, and ignoring the pistol, he moved forward, seizing her shoulders. He hadn't played fair. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. "To those who, like me, have never been able to get out of the dark and dreary paths of life, the grave is indeed a refuge, and the sooner they reach it the better.
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