When he returned, it was always the same. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. E below. About many of these houses hung a mysterious taint as of something weakly and commonly and dustily evil; the women who negotiated the rooms looked out through a friendly manner as though it was a mask, with hard, defiant eyes.
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