A vein of conviction mingled with his burlesque. “It is a night of endings,” she murmured to herself. To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. . His eyes looked a little bloodshot to her; his face had lost something of its ruddy freshness.
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