But it appears he was picked up by fishermen, and carried to France, where he has remained ever since, and where it would have been well for him if he had remained altogether. But I do not need that Gérard attend. 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. One mistress enough to ruin a man,—two, the devil. ’” “Is ‘Alcide’ still in Paris?” Ennison asked.
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