It is she that I must see. Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse. Amid a litter of nails without heads, screws without worms, and locks without wards, lay a glue-pot and an oilstone, two articles which their owner was wont to term "his right hand and his left. Then she stood up and looked around the room. No man knew whence she had come nor why. You are nothing of the sort. Maggot.
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