” “Right!” he answered. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. Feeling rather exhausted, it occurred to him that possibly some provisions might have been left by the constable; and, looking about, he perceived a pitcher of water and a small brown loaf on the floor. She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. " "It won't. ’ ‘Don’t start arguing again, for God’s sake,’ snapped Roding irritably, dragging out his own large pocket-handkerchief. It slipped out—as did that “she”. “I’ve thought about it. As for me, I look twice at it.
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