“You stupid bitch. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously. His next occupation was to take out his pistols, examine the priming, and rub the flints. One puts gloves on one’s greedy fingers. Hoddy, what made you do it? Whatever made you do it?" "God knows! Something said to me: Take it! Take it! And … I took it. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false.
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