The Master listened, with becoming attention, to the narrative, and, at its conclusion, shook his head gravely, applied his thumb to the side of his nose, and, twirling his fingers significantly, winked at his phlegmatic companion. Every one took him for the millionaire, and he had lost his head about me. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. Gently she raised his head and withdrew the coat from under the pillow. From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops. I can’t even make myself care. And, anyhow, it doesn’t matter to us. "I cannot—will not suffer you to remain here.
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