Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. Now when I tell you exactly the truth, you will also not believe me. I have only just left Wych Street. Stanley regarded him through his glasses with something approaching animosity. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers. “Oh, John, please!” “You are already leaving me. But, urged by his wife's cries, who was more anxious for the preservation of her child's life than her own, he snatched up the infant, and made his escape from the back of the premises.
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