His gray eyes were closed, his persimmon-colored lips open and panting. “You may find in it a paragraph of some interest to you. He’s been near it once or twice already. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be. "Arundel Stairs," replied Wood, "the nearest point to Wych Street. "And you have seen … drunken men?" Prudence's tones were full of suppressed horror. I am—’ ‘Like me, entirely English. For a time she could scarcely believe he was gone.
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