The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. To be sure, Ruth had dimly been aware of this; but now for the first time she was made painfully conscious of it. Stanley in person. Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. ” That conversation ended and he turned to her again. Over these hung levels, bevels, squares, and other instruments of measurement. It was horrible, but she must do it. She moved a little nearer to him. Like most officers, he’d had it especially made, for a man who loved danger had need of a precision instrument of defence. Why? Because she knew him in life, because, so long as she could remember, he had crossed and recrossed her vision—Sidney Carton. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor.
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