You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. "There," cried Jackson, closing the book and rising, "that'll do. ‘Suppose you don’t know what sort of proof she was after?’ he asked. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. I shall barely be in time for the theatre.
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