He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. “There ought to be some means of getting at him,” he said. ‘The whole town is talking. But somehow he could not bring any of these affairs to an orderly end. What about your luggage?” “I could get a few of my things, at any rate,” she said. ” He raised his hand, and they saw that he was holding a small revolver. The young man desperately ill and the girl taking care of him! Of course, there could be only one ending to such a bout with liquor, and that ending had come perhaps suddenly but not surprisingly. What was the wench at? Yet he could not maintain this stand off forever. But I am not worthy to be any man's wife —far less his wife.
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