"I'm not particular about rooms. He was no longer in military uniform, and it was evident from his suit of brown brocade that he had been disturbed while preparing for an evening engagement. Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the scabbard, and a desperate conflict began. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. She chose to hold her nose.
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