Mr. ’ Trodger eyed her with suspicion. Suppose—suppose a girl did want to start in life, start in life for herself—” She looked him frankly in the eyes. I took him out of the hands of death. ‘Who kills who?’ ‘Rot in hell,’ he snarled, panting, and managed to push himself forward and leap off the dais, running for the safety of the far aisle by the wall.
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