‘Well, only look what’s come of it. And now the fiend Gosse had taken even that away from her. Oh, I know. Soon, they fattened up, their cheeks rosy and their hair shining. Come along, master. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. ’ She bit her lip, and then turning her face away, emitted another sigh. ” “I think I am. " So saying, he sprang, with a bound like that of a tiger-cat, against the throat of the woollen-draper.
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