It would have been better had he succeeded in murdering her, she thought. She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. He saw the tragedy on the boy's face; but he was merciless. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. I am with you through thick and thin, Nigel. Moving room to room it was. “I mean to go to prison directly the session is over,” said Miss Klegg.
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