The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. I found him lying like this, the bleeding partly stopped by this scarf, else he had been dead by now. She had finally managed to start breaking him down. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. " "Man, in God's name, come with me and tell her this!" urged Spurlock.
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