I do not desire to extenuate my guilt—far less to defend it; but I would show you, and such as you —who, happily, are exempted from trials like mine—how much misery has to do with crime. Everything goes—the copra for oil, the fibre of the husk for rope, and the shell for carbon. For hats that fail and hats that flare; Toppers their universal wear; A man scores always, everywhere. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. Somehow I haven’t connected the idea with you. He caught the elderly dame’s eye, throwing her a desperate message. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. They had not to tarry long.
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