They laughed and talked and stared about them. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. ” She scoffed. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally.
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