That night in Paris I saw on the bills ‘Fatal Motor Accidents. ’ His friend held it out of the way. ‘And what is it you’re to rescue her from, I should like to know. The prostitute’s attack was predictable, typical. . So here I am, king of all I survey, with a predilection for poker, a scorched liver, and a piano-player. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal. I will shed no more blood.
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