I can’t stand it. ” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. The houses overhung in a frightful manner, and looked as if the next gust would precipitate them into the river. The work of plunder over, that of destruction commenced. I am five-and-thirty, and I have knocked about in the world and tasted the quality of life. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. But who would pay the ransom? There was no one left in his family. I couldn’t rest or eat or sleep.
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