Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. “There is some one else whom I care for!” He laughed hardly. “No, I’m fine. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks.
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