I killed him, Nigel. He could quite understand the daughter of Mr. The veins in his throat and forehead swelled and blackened; his eyes protruded from their sockets, and stared wildly; a thick damp gathered on his brow: and blood gushed from his mouth, nostrils, and ears. You are more in my power than I am in yours. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision.
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