" During this touching interview, a change had come over Sir Rowland, and he half repented of what he had done. Before midnight, your nephew shall be safe beneath the hatches of the Zeeslang. And, fearing you might not come to me, I forced my way hither, even with certainty of discomposing your friends. Aware of the cunning and desperate characters of the persons with whom she would have to deal,—aware, also, that she was in a quarter where no laws could be appealed to, nor assistance obtained, she felt the absolute necessity of caution. I have counted you, and always hoped to count you, the best of my friends. 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. They laughed and talked and stared about them.
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