. "I must go. The very carts and vans and cabs that Wellington Street poured out incessantly upon the bridge seemed ripe and good in her eyes. I’ll have to wait here, of course, which means you, Hilary—’ ‘Will have to do tomorrow’s patrol. His pale and boyish waist was nearly as slim as her own. His own peculiar genius—a miracle key to the hidden things in men's souls—had given him this immediate and astonishing illumination. Her fingers rested upon his. The evil in his eyes towards her was explosive. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. She felt that there was a hidden meaning under his words. This morning I met him at the dock, and he wouldn't take the other fifty.
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