“I didn’t blow up the house. Death belongs to God, young man. " "Say the word, and I'm mum," returned the executioner. The asylum was approached by a broad gravel walk, leading through a garden edged on either side by a stone balustrade, and shaded by tufted trees. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any.
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