The wards on the right were occupied by male patients, on the left by the female. She thought she had hidden well from him. In the upper hall he paused to listen. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. ‘They’ve gone, miss,’ came the answer, muffled through the panel door. She peered into the darkness. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other.
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