She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. It was dry, as if she had powdered it. "Be still, and you'll receive no injury," returned Jackson. Instinct had forced her to create something out of rags to satisfy a mysterious craving. "Shall ve go back to de other room?" asked the Jew.
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