In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard. I swore to hang you two years ago, but I deferred my purpose. All her pride raged at me. You seemed to me to be slipping and slipping, and your face was white.
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