“Quite alone, sir. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. " "Fool!" cried Wild, taking up the body, "what are you afraid of? After all," he added, pausing, "he may be of more use to me alive than dead. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. She breathed deeply of the starch of his shirt. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. Explain to Sir John our feelings.
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