"It is droll," he said. ” “We’ve both fallen on our feet! We’re the rarest of mortals! The real thing! There’s not a compromise nor a sham nor a concession between us. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. I should require you to accept no employment whatever upon the stage, and to remain out of England. Pull over there. Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. May I ask the nature of your interest in her?” He hesitated.
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