” “In Paris, I think,” Ennison answered. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him. All the world about her seemed to be—how can one put it?—in wrappers, like a house when people leave it in the summer. ’ ‘How can I have more? You have taken my pistol. Captain Roding either did not know, or did not remember that she had it.
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