" Mechanically raising the potion to her lips, the poor creature swallowed it without hesitation. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. A species of vertigo seized him. Her features were meagre, and ghastly white, and had the fixed and horrible stamp of insanity. You make a game with me, imbecile. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend.
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