"The worst house in the neighbourhood—the constant haunt of reprobates and thieves," groaned Wood. " "Aye!" was McClintock's inaudible affirmative. The evenings were dulcet and soft. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. The lamp was spreading soot over everything and the reek of kerosene was stronger than usual. Her body rose up to meet his in a cat-like stretch and she smiled. “Thank you,” he said, “for letting me back.
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