She tied the obi clumsily about her waist, then gently laid her hand on the bowed head. At this moment, the landlord of the Crown, a jovial-looking stout personage, with a white apron round his waist, issued from the house, bearing a large wooden bowl filled with ale, which he offered to Jack, who instantly rose to receive it. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda. You belong to me, and I have waited long enough.
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