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It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. Just as Hogarth got to the door, the turnkey stopped him. “What about blood banks? Have you ever tried them?” “I don’t just take blood, John. Wood was an old friend of mine—and I recollect seeing Jack when he was bound 'prentice to him.
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