I spoke a thought aloud. “What’s odd?” “Oh, everything!” She shivered, and went to the fire and poked it. You simply can't get good oil down there, so I must husband the few drams I carry. It’s just upon my lunch-time. “Mike, what’s going on?” She sat up, groggily rubbing her eyes. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. "What's the matter with the man?" demanded Wild.
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