Explore "The Man Called Gilray" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Temple's opponent swayed to and fro with the violence of his exertions.
His breath came thick and fast, his lips were parted in a grin as if his heart had failed him. There was a faint suffusion of purple in his face that testified that his vitality had been strained to the utmost. He did not suggest anger or passion of any kind, nothing more than determined effort to recover his faculties. With a shaking hand he pointed to some bottles on a side table.