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He understood. ‘Forgive this intrusion, ma’am, I beg. You’re dealing with me now, not Gerald. Wood's house at Dollis Hill on Tuesday'—that's two days ago,—'hasn't been heard of since. You are just necessary to life for me. She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. There was a round table covered, not with the usual “tapestry” cover, but with a plain green cloth that went passably with the wall-paper. Then suddenly her spirit rose in revolt. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her.
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