--He's coming now, said Heron to the messenger with a haughty drawl, when he wants to. It's THERE-- the coward horror, there for the last time!" At this, after a second in which his head made the movement of a baffled dog's on a scent and then gave a frantic little shake for air and light, he was at me in a white rage, bewildered, glaring vainly over the place and missing wholly, though it now, to my sense, filled the room like the taste of poison, the wide, overwhelming presence. --I know you are poor, he said. Even once was a mortal sin.
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