In between naps she increasingly found herself gazing at him, his large nose, his eyes circled in silvery plum shadows, his thin lips parted as he slept baring a rim of perfect teeth. "Take a drop of brandy before we start, watchman," said Wood, pouring out a glass of spirit, and presenting it to Terence, who smacked his lips as he disposed of it. “Couldn’t we three go out and have some coffee somewhere? The thought of that drawing-room paralyses me. "Help!—help, Mr. “It—it—must come,” she faltered.
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