I didn’t dream, not even in my wildest dreaming, that—you might have any need of me. “Do you want to ruin me? I shall walk back. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. Business exists for such interruptions. Anyhow, she’s disappeared for some reason or other. Here," he added, throwing a handbill on the bed, "are the particulars of the burglary, with the reward for Jack's apprehension. Ashen blonde, a shade that would never excite the cynical commentary which men applied to certain types of blondes. Everybody talking of you. The fates are never so kind to me. She spent the morning up to ten in writing a series of unsuccessful letters to Ramage, which she tore up unfinished; and finally she desisted and put on her jacket and went out into the lamp-lit obscurity and slimy streets.
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