Blood dripped down one side of her forehead. ’ Emile reached out both hands and grasped her shoulders. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. But De Maupassant—sheer off! Stick to Dickens and Thackeray and Hugo. We may be all murdered in this unprotected place, and nobody be the wiser. He crawled underneath the covers with her.
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