She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. Anyway, I only smoke occasionally. “It was poison—why not?” she answered. “That was a moment of madness,” she said. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. “Your name and address were upon an envelope found in the pocket of an Englishman who was brought here late last night suffering from serious injuries,” he said in a dry official tone.
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