Wood's bed-chamber—it was locked, with the key left in it. When first you left your home you had no idea that I was the hidden impulse. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. ‘Let it fall!’ ‘Brute!’ she spat, struggling, and he knew at once he had guessed aright. And listen, John. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me. Afterwards we started for a motor ride to a place outside Paris for déjeuner, and I suppose the man’s nerve failed him.
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