She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. "You can shave him, you know. 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. Can you kill yourself?” He asked quietly. Sheppard found it; and, as no one opposed her, she at once took up her abode there; nor was she long in discovering that the dreaded sounds proceeded from the nocturnal gambols of a legion of rats.
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