The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. "I have killed you," cried Jack, endeavouring to staunch the effusion of blood from her breast. He did not come out of his chloroform coma and sailed weakly to his death.
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