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"Is your person in danger?" "Not from my creditors," replied Wood, significantly. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. "Have you been more successful, Sir?" ventured Ireton. The misty caravans of which she had dreamed were become actualities. Lucy snatched it up and put it in her pack. ‘But I don’t trust you an inch. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. She had tried to shift the subject of conversation away from herself and was even managing successfully until Chen the father addressed her. This mitigated her remorse enormously.
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