’ He fitted the hat onto her head, and was aware as he did so of her eyes watching his face. “Mr. Leonardo was to me nothing at all. And, as he quitted the room, the poor widow fell with her face upon the floor. With his foodle doo! This carpenter he had a wife, The plague and torment of his life, Who, though she did her husband scold, Loved well a woollen-draper bold. It got on my nerves—the women I saw. Certainly I never met him. \" He mumbled, his eyes on her breasts.
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