" "Oh, that!" she said, with a deprecating gesture. . Once she reached the bamboo curtain, clutched at it and tore it down as his arms went around her waist. "There is a man in this room who seeks my life. The assassination, as you call it, was, obviously, the vengeance of a kinsman of the injured lady, who no doubt was of good family, upon her seducer. “What is the good of pretending?” she said. It did not cheer or fortify him with false courage and recklessness; it simply enveloped him in a mist of unreality. He made a note of the idea and stored it away. It made her hungry. . ” “That is quite untrue,” she declared cheerfully.
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