Even Capes had been for her merely an excitant to passionate love—a mere idol at whose feet one could enjoy imaginative wallowings. Now he would take her away from the house before killing her, and no one would find her body at all. It was just as easy to pretend she was watching one when she was actually watching the other. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. I have made up my mind to insist upon moving from here into Park Lane, or one of the Squares. In his muscular pudgy hand was a photograph, frayed at the corners, soiled from the contact of many hands: the portrait of a youth of eighteen. “We should get out of here. “Lift up one corner of the curtain for me. Listen, it is I.
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