A little within stood a second door, or rather wicket, lower than the first, but of equal strength, and surmounted by a row of sharp spikes. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. He uttered one word over and over, monotonously: "Fool! … Fool!" But invariably the touch of Ruth's hand quieted him, and his head would cease to roll from side to side. ToC The tragical affair at Dollis Hill, it need scarcely be said, was a dreadful blow to the family.
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