He gave her one of the sweaty red cans. “By Jove!” he broke out, “one tries to take a serious, sober view. Perhaps he had had money in the coat, back in Hong-Kong, and had been robbed without knowing it. Jonathan kept his keen eye fixed upon him, as he addressed himself for a moment to the Hollander. ‘While you are making me this interrogation, my poor Jacques bleeds to death. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. Now you're up, take this spike. By and by he ventured to peer into this window. ” “Do you drink blood?” He stood up.
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