“I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. She was a merry creature, it is true, and quite beautiful. “When did you start?” She said between puffs. Then she shrugged. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. He patted the hand on his sleeve. Last time— you made me feel snubbed. "Jack!" exclaimed Thames. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. ‘I will not, if you will assure me that an imbecile is a better marriage prospect than a starving pig. The mode of destruction makes no difference. I have been dreaming of your body and you night after night.
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