“Can you spare me forty pounds?” she said. " "I will go, if you will consent to meet me at midnight near the old house in Wych Street," replied Jack. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. And he would express various artistic sensibilities and aesthetic appreciations in carefully punctuated sentences and a large, clear voice. He glanced at it, and saw the bloodied blade.
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