Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. I can’t imagine Londoners—particularly interested in me. ‘He can’t be Valade, that’s certain,’ mused Gerald, unheeding.
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