“You are not going out—this evening, I trust,” that lady asked, a trifle dismayed. So appalling was the sight, that even the murderers—familiar as they were with scenes of slaughter,—looked aghast at it. “Don’t!” she said, weakly, as he had bent down and put one arm about her and seized her hands with his disengaged hand and kissed her—kissed her almost upon her lips. He contrasted with Russell, whose intellectual methods were, so to speak, sceptically dogmatic.
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