“Was I that bad?” He asked. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found. Here and there, patches of flesh adhered to the bones, and the dank dripping hair hanging about what had once been the face, gave it a ghastly appearance. It is better that you go away now, I think. The doleful procession at once assumed a festive character. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. It’s got to be at last like tobacco-ash over all my sayings and doings.
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