There was just time for the girl to raise her arm to chest height and draw it back before Roding seized her. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. She went past three keenly observant and ostentatiously preoccupied waiters down the thickcarpeted staircase and out of the Hotel Rococo, that remarkable laboratory of relationships, past a tall porter in blue and crimson, into a cool, clear night.
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