“It can’t make any difference to you, and there are not half a dozen people in Paris who could tell us apart. ’ She glared at Hilary. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. Lucy had tried for years to find a way of not getting blood all over herself when she made a kill. . And you, Austin; and you Langley, I say the same thing to you.
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