The sun shined weakly through brief pinpricks 90 in the thick cloud cover, the weather was brewing a storm. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. CHAPTER XVIII The doctor reached for the key and studied it sombrely. ‘Damn you, what’s the matter with you?’ he snapped in frustration. . She would not sleep for fear of losing a moment of that sense of his proximity.
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