Part 8 “Why should I ever come back?” she said to herself, as she went down the staircase. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. ” “No. A chill ran through his frame, and, grasping the heavy weapon with which chance had provided him, prepared to strike down the first person who should enter the cell. The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. Then it dawned.
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