’ A panel slid open and she stepped into the relative light of the little dressingroom, Kimble close behind her. Niente. “You will come back, won’t you?” He nodded cheerfully. For when this Joan said it, I had a memory. He had forgiven everybody. If ever the denouement came—if ever the Hand reached him—Ruth would then understand why he had rebuffed all her tender advances. In a moment, Roding and Lucilla joined him. But I am here. Luckily I’m not.
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