She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. They stopped talking, except to each other. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. ‘That is the man who tries to kill me, but he wounded instead my servant. Give me the books. But, perhaps Mr. But don't let my name frighten you.
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