Wood resounded from below. " The hint was not lost upon Wood. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. She slid the dress off, naked underneath. Without a word or a gesture, the Wastrel turned and staggered forth, out of the orbit of these two, having been thrust into it for a single purpose already described. No instrument I've ever used has done me such good service. ’ Her eyes narrowed.
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