Funny codgers, aren't they?" he said. She sat drawn together in her chair in the corner of the box, at a loss what to say or do—afraid, curious, perplexed. You are my prisoner, murderer. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. Let me put the main question to you now that I could not put the other afternoon. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said.
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