Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. Then Capes shifted his eyes to her microscope and the little trays of unmounted sections beside it. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. The stairs were outside but they had been covered with a thin plastic roof. Her neck was smeared with red and remorse flooded him. Which is also puzzling. If only she had thought to plunge the scissors into her own heart! Hoddy … to return and find her either gone or dead! But even as the Wastrel's arms gathered her, there came the sound of hurrying steps on the veranda.
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