" "A key!" exclaimed Wood eagerly. Even now he was not at all sure that she was not playing with him. I am quite clear about this. It did seem germane to the matter that so many of the people “in the van” were plain people, or faded people, or tired-looking people. I found him once in my rooms, and I believe that he had a key to my front door. ‘But there is something still I do not understand. “Compromise—and kindness. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. Nervously he pulled alongside the dilapidated oncewhite farmhouse. Not a bad man as men go, but he would sell whisky and gin. Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. “This is not every day.
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