"You," answered Jack, abruptly. Her husband sat in a chair beside her bed, his head in his hands. He had abandoned his oars, and the boat was drifting with the stream towards the enemy. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year. ” “Mr. ” “You talk strangely, Anna,” he said. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. Mr. Still, it was true about men. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical.
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