And nowhere could I obtain the slightest information. I could resist the tempter now, I am strong in health,—in mind. Asking her way once or twice, she passed along Fleet Street into the Strand, and crossed Trafalgar Square, into Piccadilly. “But your hair,” he gasped. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. She spoke slowly. It was a queer little bed-sitting-room almost in the roof, with a partition right across it.
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