Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. Taking her limbs was the only thing I could do short of killing her. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent. But she wished she could put the thing she had done in some way to them so that it would not hurt them so much as the truth would certainly do. I know that you were disappointed because I did not turn out to be the millionaire. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me.
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