She spoke with a certain odd deliberation carefully chosen words which fell like drops of ice upon the man who sat listening. "You want me, then?" she said. "Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, nobody writes—I mean, on a par with what we've just heard. "I'll be back in a minute. But, rather than be the cause of any further misunderstanding between you and my benefactor, I will leave London and its neighbourhood for ever. As Jack departed, a dark figure, emerging from behind a wall, rushed after him.
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