It was in the quiet streets and squares toward Oxford Street that it first came into her head disagreeably that she herself was being followed. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. ‘I fear you mistake, Emile. “You no longer belong to Gianfrancesco. She noticed that this trunk was not littered with hotel labels. . And he, her lawful husband, dared not go to her and console her! Accursed—all of them— Enschede, Ruth, and himself.
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