" "It matters not what I think," replied Wild. Roused by the bell tolling for evening service, Jack left the house. He walked her home. It’s not you—not a bit. He envied her a little. His new wife’s face was sweet and angelic with hair the color of flax, her belly already visibly large beneath a roe skin pelt. \"Do not tell me that you have not asked her yet, fool, or I will be forced to dump the rest of that soda over your head. You know that I am practically destitute, without means or any certain knowledge of where my next meal is coming from. We met dissecting dogfish. . \"Sorry. I did not reckon upon—him. When she entered the office a strange scene was presented to her startled gaze.
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