She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. "The door!—the door!—death!" he added, as he tried the handle, "it is locked—and I am unarmed. Nor must it be imagined, that while he thus exercised his teeth, he neglected the flagon. “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair.
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