She despises me, I suppose. Poe is all right, if you don't mind nightmares. If not, I'll convey him to St. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. When he begins to notice things, I want you to trap his interest, to amuse him, keep his thoughts from reverting to his misfortunes. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella.
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