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Gerald’s voice came back to her, saying that she could not hope to outwit “a man who means business”. ” “You like me?” “Yes. I want to give you time to think. Wood did think of it, and groaned aloud. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. He wriggled underneath her heaving body, pinned like an insect. To his great joy he found a small garret-door in the roof of the opposite house open.
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