. . Wild," said the turnkey, trembling in every joint. She washed her face with unwonted elaboration before she went to bed. But the girl stood outside the circle of Ah Cum's knowledge—rather profound—of human impulses. He hung over her—he and his loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening—a vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. He seemed to be hesitating between two courses of action.
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