While involved in this crowd, near Temple Bar, —where the thoroughfare was most dangerous from the masses of ruin that impeded it,—an individual, whose swarthy features recalled to the carpenter one of his tormentors of the previous night, collared him, and, with bitter imprecations accused him of stealing his child. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her.
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