She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. "Oh, God! would you take him from me?— would you murder him?" "His father's name?—and he is free," rejoined Rowland, holding her arms. Then, in a whisper: "But there's no reason why the whole hotel should.
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