‘She’s wearing a lightskirt’s clothing?’ ‘Nothing obviously so, I assure you. A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. ‘Monsieur, my wife intended not to anger you,’ he said in a tone of apology. It was just a shabby, stupid, furtive business that began between us. He sat with folded arms and knitted brows, thinking intently. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. "There is a man in this room who seeks my life. You know that I am practically destitute, without means or any certain knowledge of where my next meal is coming from.
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