Listening at one of the doors leading to the Master Debtors' side, he heard a loud voice chanting a Bacchanalian melody, and the boisterous laughter that accompanied the song, convinced him that no suspicion was entertained in this quarter. My wife—killed me. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. Dunster shall fetch you a cab. He had grabbed her in the stream, embracing her naked body tightly, running his hands over her breasts and clutching her buttocks.
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