There were one or two bitter moments in his life when he had been made to feel that gentility laid on with a brush may sometimes crack and show weak places—that deportment and breeding are after all things apart. "What's your name?" he said, addressing the audacious lad, who was looking about him as coolly as if nothing material was going on. . I thought my sister and her murdered husband dragged me hither, to this very room, and commanded you to slay me.
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