[The Long Night by Stanley Weyman]@TWC D-Link book
The Long Night

CHAPTER XXV
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He had had no return of pain, no paroxysm; but a singular lightness of body, eloquent of the change wrought in him and the youth and strength that were to come, had done what could be done to combat the terrors of the soul, natural in his situation.

Pale he was, despite the potion; in spite of it he trembled and sweated.

But he knew himself changed, and sick at heart as he was, he could only guess at the depths of nervous despair to which he must have fallen had he not taken the wondrous draught.
There was that to the good.

That to the good.

He would live.


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