I was as sane that night as I had ever been in my life. I am quite sure of this, though I had had a merry time enough earlier in the evening with my friends in the old pavilion (that time-honored retreat of my ancestors), whose desolation I had thought to dissipate with a little harmless revelry. Wine does not disturb my reason -- the little wine I drank under that unwholesome roof -- nor am I a man given to sudden excitements or untoward impulses.
Yet this thing happened to me.
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