How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. He did not think of her as a killer, he could barely conceive it. As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss.
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