The arrested women were herded in a passage of the Panton Street Police-station that opened upon a cell too unclean for occupation, and most of them spent the night standing. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. He filled her glass with champagne. What other reason could there be? It’s more complex, but it’s better. He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange.
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