He lowered his voice a little and leaned over towards her. " The stranger smiled incredulously. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. But these fears, like those he had recently experienced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to the roof, congratulating himself that owing to the opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all probability escaped serious injury. "I've counted ten coffins so far. "Do you still refuse to make one!" "I have made one," replied Lady Trafford. And, if I'd my own way, I'd drown 'em all like a litter o' puppies.
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