She laughed as the deluge seemed to grow worse with every step. Above her head was an aura of white fire. A delicate flush of colour streamed into her cheeks. “Don’t you know, child, that this is torture for me? What in God’s name more can you have to tell me?” Her face had become almost like a marble image. She had trouble outwitting him as he seemed to predict her words before he said them. He was bringing the sing-song girl to the hotel! The strange cortège presently vanished below the window-sill. “I wondered.
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