Wood, sinking into a chair, and fanning herself violently,—"what a fluster you have put me into with your violence, to be sure! And at the very time, too, when you know I'm expecting a visit from Mr. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. " "Many kinds; a thorough outlaw. . Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. Watching her strip had been delicious for him, and a part of him enjoyed her self-consciousness acutely.
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