"There's his knock. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. Pausing at each door on the landing, Jack placed his ear to the keyhole, and listened intently. She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity.
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