Wood, who looks after her comforts, and visits her constantly. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. I am not a madman, or a pauper, or even an unreasonable person. As Jack conjectured, no one was there, and, though a lamp was burning on a stand, they decided upon proceeding without it. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling.
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