It was then that the young man entered his thought with some permanency: because there was no apparent reason for his joining the tour, since from the beginning he had shown no interest in anything. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. "Farewell!" blubbered the executioner's wife, pressing his hand to her lips. I don't know; I really don't know," she found herself repeating. She was curious to know why he had boarded a dingy train instead of hailing a cab or his own private chauffeur like the others in expensive suits were doing.
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