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The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. "Is she married?" he asked, after a brief pause. ” She turned and looked at him. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. ’ Jack blinked. But, as soon as he perceived who it was, he roused himself, and glared fiercely at the intruder from under his bent brows. \"Thank you. Or had you not noticed?’ He sneered. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass.
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