"The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. “Mary! What’s going on! Why are you crying?!” He commanded an answer in a worried and slightly irritated tone. “How’s Mrs. I will light the stove, and there shall be some coffee presently. She wished he could smoke and dull his nerves a little. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man.
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