She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. ’ ‘That is what you thought of me. I don’t think I’ve got illusions, nor you. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. The knife is at my breast.
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