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So long as she stood beside him, he was safe. But, no. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall. If they entered a shop, he paused by the doorway, as if waiting for the journey to be resumed. He kissed her once on the lips with a passion of which, during all their days of married life, he had given no sign. Don’t leave me in this beastly thing. In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. He occupied one of the smaller houses near the station.
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