Brother and Sister VIII. " "It matters not what I think," replied Wild. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. It made me wake up, and there I lay thinking of you, spending your nights up here all alone, and no one to look after you. I believed that she was my wife, or she would have been safe from me. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress.
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