She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. Coffee à la Turque wasn't so bad; but a guy couldn't soak his breakfast toast in it. There was no past, no future, only this exhilarating present. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. "Till then, I shall remain content," returned Wild. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us.
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