"I thought you'd have got rid of your ill-humour by this time. His body had been maimed many times. I—listen. The kindly faced landlady had failed to catch his name, and said he was a tall, handsome gentleman with a great black mustache. She agreed entirely with her brother. Wood. “There was a man called Montague Hill,” she said hoarsely, “but he is dead. To-night all London believes that he was your husband. I have an appetite which I dare not increase.
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