By the side of her plate was a small key. "Tell me the truth, I implore you," cried Thames. The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. Catching hold of his chin, he bent back the neck, while with his left hand he pulled out a clasp knife, which he opened with his teeth, and grasping Wild's head with his arm, notwithstanding his resistance, cut deeply into his throat. The blood will rest on your head.
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