“I saw him stagger and sink down, and the pistol was smoking still in my hand. Then her white teeth gleamed, and her excuse for remaining any longer before that little marble table was gone. She doubted how she stood toward him and what the restrained gleam of his face might signify. At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines.
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