’ A strangled sob escaped her as his thumb dug cruelly into the soft flesh of her wrist. He was draining a glass, and as he set it down he shuddered. “Lift up one corner of the curtain for me. The night had swallowed him up, but his work on her was done. She waited expectantly. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. Saw the villain through the keyhole.
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