Here he set down the lamp, and took out a key, and as he did so the expression of his countenance was so atrocious, that Jack felt assured he was not wrong in his suspicions. He had not addressed to her even the most ordinary courtesy of fellow travellers; she doubted that he was even aware of her existence. ‘I wish you joy of the wench. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth.
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