The fresh air, which blew in his face, greatly revived him. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. He passed his arm under that of the constable, and drew him aside. 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.
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