“Ye Gods!” she said at last. A woman hard to read, who seemed to delight in keeping locked up behind that fascinating rigidity of feature the intense sensibility which had been revealed to him, her master, only in occasional and rare moments of enthusiasm. “You could have a talk to Miss Kitty Brett this afternoon, if you liked. "Couldn't you speak to him?" "What?—and be insulted for my trouble? No, thank you!" "That is it. Maggot, laughing. And now she comprehended that the man (she had never known him by any name) knew she had surprised the look and had not resented it. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street.
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