" "If my dignity must be purchased by the loss of you, I renounce it," cried Thames. Ennison, who had been standing with his back to the window, came suddenly a little further into the room. The odour of kerosene permeated the bungalow; but Ruth mitigated the nuisance to some extent by burning native punk in brass jars. Besides, I thought you despised killing women. The houses loomed progressively larger as one strode up the block, growing from ranch to two-story, from squat 1950's modern to stately 1890's palace. He must fight the thought continually, day in and day out. “I might go home, I don’t know. Mere hangers on.
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