] CHAPTER XI The second call energized her into action. “Muck-headed moral ass! I ought to have done anything. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. She reflected before answering.
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