And now I shall strip his mine from him and leave him to rot in the penitentiary.

For I always hated him, quite aside from any thought of my uncle's estate.

I hate him for what he is.

I always wanted to trample his girl-face in the mire." "Leave your chicken-curses and come to the point," urged the junior member of the firm impatiently.

"It is no news to me that your brain is diseased and your heart rotten.