“I believe so. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. That was life. This service rendered, without waiting for any farther order, she withdrew. She could have dined alone in her room; but courage had demanded that she face the ordeal and have done with it. “In the end,” it seemed to be thinking, “they embalmed me with the utmost respect—sound spices chosen to endure—the best! I took my world as I found it. This started a thought moving.
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