Maggot had disappeared. ‘What are you going to do now, Gerald?’ He sipped his wine and shrugged. I call myself a man of the world, a man of many experiences, but I never knew what love meant—until I met your sister. The veins in his throat and forehead swelled and blackened; his eyes protruded from their sockets, and stared wildly; a thick damp gathered on his brow: and blood gushed from his mouth, nostrils, and ears. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces.
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