She had not made friends with any; so they still eyed her askance. "Give me your hand, Poll, to help me through," cried Jack, as he accomplished the operation. The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay. ” She eyed him scornfully.
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