Mrs. ’ She was backing across the room, moving towards the screen. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice. But when she turned her thoughts to Morningside Park she perceived the tangled skein of life was now to be further complicated by his romantic importunity. “I wish that I could forget it,” he said.
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