CHAPTER IX. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. Of late, however, his plotting had assumed a more dark and dangerous complexion. ‘To begin with,’ he said, ‘allow me a very tiny intimacy. Thames said not another word, but marched boldly towards him, and seized him by the collar. I’ve always had a sneaking desire for the writing-trade.
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