"Shall ve go back to de other room?" asked the Jew. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. ‘It must seem strange to you at first. “You propose, then,” she remarked, “that I shall still be saddled with a pseudo husband. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. The chamber rang with her shrieks. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully. She spoke with an entirely false note of cheerful offhandedness. The future was not so black. On a small shelf near the foot of the bed stood a couple of empty phials, a cracked ewer and basin, a brown jug without a handle, a small tin coffee-pot without a spout, a saucer of rouge, a fragment of looking-glass, and a flask, labelled "Rosa Solis.
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