A tinge of admiration rose in his breast. "God in Heaven!" he cried, "the floor is covered with blood. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. He felt the first sting of the whip. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. There’s no sense in morality, I suppose, unless you are fundamentally immoral. She was powerless to move from her chair.
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