‘You would have a history of my life? Very well. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. They were sure to catch up with her. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. I’ll take over here. But for a long time, anyhow, we lovers have to be as if we were no more than friends. Caliban sarch ebery hole in de place, but Shack no dere.
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