But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Her eyes where glassy and shining. ‘And I do not know why you are so polite, when you have been bad to me last night, and have taken my dagger. Of course, at home there would have been questions. The job is easy.
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