"Release your prisoner," continued Wood, "or the window is opened. There lay upon this stand a book bound in limp black leather—the Holy Bible. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in.
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