"To-morrow I will take you to him. "I lost a very valuable one some time ago. We dine at seven-thirty. E. "He who stands on the verge of the grave, as I do, should never be unprepared. Whisky kills him suddenly; it does not sap him gradually. Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. "No, I won't hear you, murderer," rejoined Wood.
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