” she said. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. ’ ‘Compel me? You do not know me, monsieur. Come along, my Newgate bird!" he continued, shaking him with great violence. “I promise, Lucy. As silent as she had remained about who had brought her home last night. " "She has suffered enough for you," said Wood.
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