But days had now passed. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. She threw the bags of marijuana and a tiny bag of white powder he had in the sewer, unfortunately they were his only worldly possessions. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said. She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. She tiptoed to the stand and gathered up the manuscripts which she carried to a chair by the window.
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