Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person.
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