A time may come,—and that ere long,—when you will be glad to purchase my secrets, and your own safety, at a dearer price than the heads of your companions. Clientèle was of the most transitory character. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Would it be Thérèse?’ She shook her head. Then suddenly, in front of all those windows, he folded her in his arms and pressed her to him, and kissed her unresisting face. "Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. The point is, Spurlock was coming along: queerly, by his own imagination.
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