As the Wastrel played, Spurlock knew that the man saw the inevitable end—death by drink; saw the glory of the things he had thrown away, the past, once so full of promise. And then, for the first time, Wood noticed a small stream of blood coursing slowly down her cheek. "Spare me!" Jonathan, however, instead of answering him, searched for his knife, with the intention of severing his wrist. "Oh, God! would you take him from me?— would you murder him?" "His father's name?—and he is free," rejoined Rowland, holding her arms.
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