’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. “And let us have a talk about this—some other time. What a frightened fool he was! If he could not remember her name, it was equally possible that already she had forgotten his. ‘Jacques?’ she called. Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. The petals have fallen—the red petals we loved so.
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