CHAPTER I. She feasted reluctantly, partly out of wonder at the new function of her often elongated canines. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety. Slowly Prudence Sindlesham nodded her head, her eyes never leaving his face. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. "Recollect you are in my power.
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