The coachman having received his order, and being offered an extra fare if he drove quickly, set off at full speed. Now he lay there, a doubled-up mass, with ugly distorted features, and a dark wet stain dripping slowly on to the carpet. "I have some difficulty in preventing myself from becoming your executioner. ‘I suppose you think I can’t manage it myself,’ had complained Captain Roding sarcastically. “Will you be moral and your species, or immoral and yourself? We’ve decided to be immoral. They are very good people, you know. He can't be far off.
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