Wish SHE”—he indicated Miss Klegg’s back with a nod—“was at the bottom of the sea. It was cheating, pitiful cheating. Soho! boys. Wood was once a favourite of yours. He had sufficient strength to wait upon himself. Gazing into each other's eyes with new-found rapture, neither observed the sudden appearance in the doorway of an elderly woman in travel-stained linen. He remembered it suddenly. Paintings sold off the walls.
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