‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. I told her it was the end. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. There were too many kills, too many unsolved files in too many cabinets. She had become unashamed of her nudity, altogether unfocused on her appearance.
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