The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. ” She looked at her toes. Expiation. Give me my pistol and my dagger. He felt her observance and warmed to it. "But what, may I ask, arouses the thought?" The doctor was in high good humour. “No I’m not, John. He grabbed her wrist and prised the weapon from her fingers, ignoring her other hand that clawed at his to try to retain the trophy.
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