Martin managed to catch her after class the next day. Flinging her back against it, she put her hands out, barring his way. She paused. Without preamble, in a voice of extreme exasperation, he demanded, ‘Now what the devil’s to do? What in God’s name do you mean by sending Gerald such a ridiculous letter? Never read anything half as crazy. "Woman, your wits are fled!" And so it seemed; for all the answer she could make was to murmur distractedly, "I can't find the key. “You silly fool,” he said. The moment they cease to be serviceable, or become dangerous he lodges an information, and the matter's settled. Clear water gave away to gray as she waded deeper, feeling her slippers on rock. If Ray left the house, it would be easy. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor.
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