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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. Strange, I could never learn her history. But to plunge blindly into the unknown!" "I had to! I had to!" She had told him only the first part of her story. Sepulchre's bell is for ever ringing in my ears—oh!" "If that's the case," observed Wood, "I'm surprised you should like to have such a frightful picture constantly in view as that over the chimney-piece. The kindly faced landlady had failed to catch his name, and said he was a tall, handsome gentleman with a great black mustache. ’ ‘Then you shall no longer do so. Entering the house, he found himself in a narrow passage leading to the back stairs. Maggot, dealing him a buffet that sent him reeling several yards backwards.
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