” He seemed to be elaborating ideas as he talked. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made. "There's his knock. If only one might open the shutters and let in the light. Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. ’ He strode to the fireplace behind the leather-topped desk and addressed his own reflection in the mirror, wagging an admonitory finger in his own face. Wait a second. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. Everything was done in the most legal and imposing way, but the whole thing was a fraud. "He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild. “I do not even know who you are.
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