She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. “It’s like Troy!” said a voice of rapture. Gossip was the driving force in Sheila’s existence. We’ll run away together, we’ll elope.
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