‘And you mean this? Truly?’ ‘Entirely. " "But why? In the name of God, why? Your flesh and blood! Have you never loved anything?" "Are you indeed my daughter's lawful husband?" Enschede countered. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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