"You don't eat," continued Kneebone, addressing Jack, who had remained for some time thoughtful, and pre-occupied with his head upon his hand. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. She recognized the face but could not quite place it. ‘Lord,’ Gerald uttered, his inexplicable annoyance evaporating. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. He pointed to where the lights still burned in Anna’s windows.
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