George Borrow,
Lavengro — Chapter 87
(1851)
“ What can the silly impertinent fellow mean? thought I; but the ale was now before me, and I hastened to drink, for my weakness was great, and my mind was full of dark thoughts, the remains of the indescribable horror of the preceding night. It may kill me, thought I, as I drank deep—but who cares? anything is better than what I have suffered. ”
