He sat on the bed, throwing aside his hat. "Remember the devil!" retorted Terence, who had recovered his natural audacity. 112 Sheila needed an early riser: a girl around the house to help cook and clean and walk the dog. "What the devil makes you out so late? And what has happened to you, man, eh?—you seem in a queer plight. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth.
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