He helped himself to a beer, then a vodka and tonic, then two rum and Cokes. “Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. “What was that?” she asked sharply.
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