‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. You understand me, sirrah?" "Perfectly," replied Jack. “I wondered. “And all the rest of it perhaps is a song. He drew her to him with his hands upon her waist. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. No other man should touch her; she was Hoddy's, body and soul, in this life and after. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes.
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