The Wastrel did not relish this. "Where are you going?" cried Thames, who, though wholly disencumbered, was scarcely able to keep up with him. He tugged at the overly large hooded sweatshirt, which she unzipped and let fall to the ground. Her moods were many and always striking. I pledged my thumb that, dead or alive, I'd pay the wager if I lost; and I should like to be as good as my word. And she buried herself beneath the straw, which she tossed above her head with the wildest gestures.
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