Then a hansom drove up, and his heart gave a great leap. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure. Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs. The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. "Let me go," cried Winifred. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. They vanished through the doorway.
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