I am gambling on his intuition. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. "But we'll find a way to make you open your lips presently. Now what I want you to feel is this.
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