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I’ve told them all that was necessary, but I— wanted to ask your pardon—for having made myself a nuisance to you, and for breaking into your rooms—and to thank you—the doctor says you bound up my wound—or I should have bled to death. She had prepared herself to meet violent protest, a recurrence of that burning glance. On the bench was set a quartern measure of gin, a crust of bread, and a slice of cheese.
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