His tone was rough, almost threatening. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree. I want to know who sent you those. I told her I was sick today and she told me to get over myself. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him. “Hello? She’s like, your girlfriend, not mine.
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