The mighty concourse became for a moment still. "Your sympathy is being wasted. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. "I've done nothing to offend you," persisted Jack. " He drew down the lamp and blew it out, and followed her into the night, more lovely than he had ever imagined night to be. Yes, there was someone there.
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