His hand shook, great beads of perspiration gathered on his face, and I perceived a very strong odor of Cocomonga wine.

He had evidently braced for the occasion.
It was, however, too late to protest.

He fastened onto a molar, and with the lion's strength which lay in his gigantic frame, he wrenched it out.
Ellen put up her hand and felt the place.

"My God! you've pulled the wrong tooth!" cried she, and so he had.
I seized a jug of red wine which stood near by, and poured out a gobletful, which she drank.

The blood came freely from her mouth, and I feared something dreadful had happened.
Fisher declared she had shown him the wrong tooth, and was perfectly willing to try again.