I thought that Hill was dead, but I was frightened, and I wanted to get away from Paris. ‘I rather gathered as much,’ said Miss Froxfield, releasing her hands. Not content with this, the assailants set fire to the house in half-a-dozen other places; and the progress of the flames was rapid and destructive. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud.
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