No; she'd never go back. He breathed heavily, as though he had been running. “Indeed, no,” he answered. " Hastening to the Six Bells, Jack ordered some refreshment, and engaged a private room, where he remained till the afternoon absorbed in grief. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. There were seven tales in all—short stories—a method of expression quite strange to her, after the immense canvases of Dickens and Hugo.
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