” “My wife was astounded—wounded beyond measure. Jack, whose clothes were covered with dust, and whose face was deathly pale from his recent exertion, looked more like a phantom than a living person. Though a few months younger than his companion Jack Sheppard, he was half a head taller, and much more robustly formed. In this moment he could have stamped upon the Wastrel's face, and ended the affair; but all that was clean in him, chivalrous, revolted at the thought. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. “John, I’m so hungry. She heard the sounds of Rhea scuttling about, and then feeding, brutally.
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