" He departed, musing. He folded the garments carefully and replaced them on the chair. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. And if the woman is not a rival, she must be—yes, that must be it. ’ ‘The what, miss?’ asked Kimble, frowning. " "You once saw a man die that way?" the manager echoed, his recent puzzlement returning full tide.
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