Wood scarcely knew where he was. Cursing himself for his inertness, Jack soon shook off this drowsiness, and set to work in earnest. ‘Who is that man? What has he to do with you? No, don’t tell me. There is a button loose on that coat under your pillow. It isn’t illusions—for us. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess.
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