Wood could not avoid making a slight shuffling sound. Thames sat with Winifred's hand clasped in his own, and commenced a recital of his adventures, which may be briefly told. She was no longer there. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. He hated himself a little for it. Jack had thus been six hours in accomplishing his arduous task. But this might be merely a figurative mode of describing his customary vigilance.
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