She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. " "What do you want me to do?" The doctor thought this query gave hopeful promise. There was only one idea in his head now—to batter and bruise and crush this weakling, then cast him at the feet of his love-lorn wife. It was the very spot from which his poor mother had gazed after her vain attempt to rescue him at the Mint; but, though he was ignorant of this, her image was alone present to him. “There is no doubt whatever about that.
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