She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. “If you wish,” he said, “I will go there in the morning and see what can be done for him. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. Blueskin and the Minters were dragging Wood to the pump. He had forgiven everybody. I guess. If he dies she is safe. Ann Veronica said nothing. "Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. Within ten minutes he had read much more than had greeted his eye.
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