“Oh God!” she cried, “Oh God!” and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for a time walked about the room—a Corsair’s bride at a crisis of emotion. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. The weather's been foul enough for the last fortnight, but I've never turned my back upon it. "We've no time for any Bedlam scenes now.
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