The stairs creaked as Mark rushed down them. Shakily, she rose with the sword and drove it through Rhea’s heart. Hetty, looking out of the window—she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops. ‘But you do not understand, mon ami. THAMES DARRELL.
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