“I’m going to kill your weakness for you. I mentioned sixty, I believe, when I was in Paris, but there are expenses, and just now business is bad. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed, pervert?” “Yes sir. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. “Do you know,” she said, “that every one is remarking how ill you look. Sudden indignation boiled up in him.
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