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She was by his side. There was a pause, and then the front door slammed. Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. “But I have no troubles.
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