There are sentimental and traditional deferences and reverences, I know, between father and son; but that’s just exactly what prevents the development of an easy friendship. Montressor’s guests. He swore that I was his wife, that chance had given me to him at last. A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. It is to take place to-night. He'd have some fun with that Chinaman before the morning was out.
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