The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. " "Then the sooner I'm off the better," cried Wood; "what's to pay, David?" "Don't affront me, Owen, by asking such a question," returned the landlord; "hadn't you better stop and finish the bottle?" "Not a drop more," replied Wood. \" Lucy said. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. Her father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their hands upon the latch.
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