“I cannot keep silence any longer. She knew very well that a new thing was stirring in her. What about your luggage?” “I could get a few of my things, at any rate,” she said. I bear the marks of some of them about me still," he continued, taking off his wig, and laying bare a bald skull, covered with cicatrices and plates of silver. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. Montressor’s guests. ‘Laisse-moi.
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