But it was clear she was in no mood for Teddys. And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. Wood's, the carpenter in Wych Street. It had been intensified and corrupted by time, as if to add insult to injury. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again.
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