Lucilla clearly adored her betrothed, anyone could see that. Maggot. ’ A sudden thought brought a frown to her brow. "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains.
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