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He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. “All right so far,” she said to herself. She was writhing to get her hands loose and found herself gasping with passionate violence, “It’s damnable!—damnable!” to the manifest disgust of the fatherly policeman on her right. He depended upon her, for his medicine, for his drink, for the little amusement it was now permissible to give him.
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