" "On that night, you first met me, love," said Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to take his hand, which he coldly withdrew. They don’t count, and I don’t care. When in the plenitude of his power, he commenced a terrible trade, till then unknown—namely, a traffic in human blood. He measured out the portion of another peg, the bottle wavering in his hand. Now we meet again, and you will scarcely look at me.
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