Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. ‘You see,’ he pursued blandly, ‘I lead a life of the most intolerable boredom. Haven’t I shown you over and over again that I mean you no harm? What do I have to do?’ ‘You can go away and leave me to my affairs,’ she threw at him. "He's not to blame," said Jack, rising.
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