and as if his appearance wasnt torture enough , the monstrous boatman hadnt been fooled by the beetroot concoction , tossing the vial away and grunting incoherently for more , till wixelor was forced to drag the sharp nail of his index finger across his left palm and then hold out the hollow of his palm all the while keeping his eyes closed and trying not to think of the tongue that was noisily lapping up his blood .