Gashes on his arms were already beginning to heal and disappear. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms. ” She put her wrists upon his shoulders, feeling him surge with the pride of his own masculinity as she touched him. Gerald’s voice came back to her, saying that she could not hope to outwit “a man who means business”. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know. Now lend me your own hand. He will be dependent on you. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. .
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