Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. “Are you looking for Mike? He’s working. Babies and females have got to keep hold of somebody or go under—anyhow, for the next few generations. " "A short man, isn't he, about your height, Sir,—with a yellow beard, and a face as sly as a fox's?" "Hem!" replied Wood, coughing slightly to conceal a smile; "the description's not amiss. She came in now with an air of reserved solicitude. She had refused to eat human beings when she had first learned her fate. ” “I realize I can’t see my mom or brother again.
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