“Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. Wood, disdainfully. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. “You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter.
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