Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. ‘I don’t know what the devil you’re talking about. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. “In five minutes I shall be ready. “Quite an unimportant one,” he assured her.
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