A bad case of the flying aspidistra.
"We met at a late hour of the night; for our debaucheries were to be faithfully protracted until morning. The wine flowed freely, and there were not wanting other and perhaps more dangerous seductions.... I felt a light hand placed upon my shoulder, and that ever-remembered, low, damnable whisper within my ear.... 'Scoundrel!' I said in a voice husky with rage ... 'you shall not dog me unto death!" ...
(Edgar Allen Poe, from "William Wilson")
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