He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance. Too late now. There was hope for me then. "Mercy on us! Well, I thought their manners quite out o' the common. He declined supper, but took wine. Everywhere else—the law, medicine, the Stock Exchange—prejudice bars us.
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