Wood then took to his heels, and never once looked behind him till he reached his own dwelling in Wych Street. Meantime, a change had taken place in the weather. Would she ever find it? Sighing, she opened the door to the next room, and drew back the drapes. Next instant he had her immobilised, her hands behind her back, her chest crushed to his, the white veil slipping once again. Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be.
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