When he could find words, he tried by the most urgent solicitations to prevail upon the constable to let him out. “I believe,” he said stiffly, “that these are the apartments of Miss Pellissier. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. She backed away from him. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping.
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