” Anna never flinched. The destroying angel hurried by, shrouded in his gloomiest apparel. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. But when she reached the pavement outside her teeth were clenched, and she carried herself unconsciously an inch or so higher. ‘That he can say he was married only to Suzanne all the time.
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