" "Mr. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. There was also the daunting task of getting dressed. ” She swept out of the room. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. But not finding it, he had again recourse to the bludgeon, and began beating the hand fixed on the upper rail, until, by smashing the fingers, he forced it to relinquish its hold. "You mistake,—you are mine.
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