Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. It was a reputation by no means deserved. It fell with a clatter to the floor. He had not to wait long. When the doctor came in—he had just finished his breakfast—O'Higgins rose and presented his card. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. “You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. They were sharp and dripping with black blood. The next minute, I contrived, without either of 'em perceiving me, to convey it into my own pocket.
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