His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. Miss Stanley threw aside a black cloak to reveal a discreet and dignified arrangement of brown silk, and then embraced Ann Veronica with warmth. "I know the hand—ha! my friend! and I have murdered him! And my sister was thus nobly, thus illustriously wedded. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't.
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