A single blanket constituted his sole covering at night. Jesus! They just wouldn’t let up about you after you played the violin for them. ‘Still—here? Wasting your—time. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. Womanhood is sacred to me. They were so nearly alike that the difference would be due to a shaky hand. He heard me; but he never came in to ask what was the matter. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you.
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