The evenings were dulcet and soft. Blue Ruin will do the job nicely. "She wouldn't let me go. "If you touch me I will kill you," said Ruth, grasping the scissors which lay beside the pencils—Hoddy's! The Wastrel laughed, still advancing. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise.
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