Sorrow lay in the back of his mind as he withdrew, but he put it aside. And all to satisfy a succession of rapacious lightskirts. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. In one angle of the room stood a disused fire-place, with a rusty grate and broken chimney-piece; in the other there was a sort of box, contrived between the wall and the boards, that looked like an apology for a cupboard.
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