He could have easily forced it, but preferred a more expeditious mode of reaching the roof which suggested itself to him. He fell backwards on his butt, the wind knocked out of him. She was afraid people would follow her, she was afraid of the dark, open doorways she passed, and afraid of the blazes of light; she was afraid to be alone, and she knew not what it was she feared. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. " "Not in the least," replied Shotbolt, creeping beneath the table; "there's my staff. I tell you I’m Meysey Hill, the railway man. I'm sure she'll let me go, though.
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