In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. He paced faster, stomping around. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. He would read the jokes and illustrate them; and after a time I could see the point of a joke without having it explained to me. . . He seemed too noisy.
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