" "Fool!" cried Wild, taking up the body, "what are you afraid of? After all," he added, pausing, "he may be of more use to me alive than dead. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. He thought of her and himself, and no longer in that vein of incidental adventure in which he had begun. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. “Shopman. . If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. . She loped forward on unnaturally long legs and arms that swung loosely. "Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. He’ll survive.
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