No prisoner except Edgeworth Bess was placed in the same cell with him. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. Rhea’s head exploded into a spray of blood, brain, and bone. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee.
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