’ The expression on Emile Gosse’s face was vicious under the smile. Something insisted that those two were mysteriously linked—that the woman knew the man was there. These were the Master's body-guard. That would be myself, or if she lived, Mary’s daughter. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces.
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