They were now in a sort of cellar, at one end of which was a door. To her mind, recalling the picture of him the night before, there had been something tragic in the grim silent manner of his tippling. ‘I do not need for you to tell me this. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue. ‘s as mad as any of you, in spite of all his respectability; not a bit of him straight anywhere, not one bit. "Where can I hide myself?" he added, glancing round the room in search of a closet.
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