" "What villain?" cried Hogarth. ’ ‘Ah, that was well done of him,’ exclaimed Melusine. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood.
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