E. “I remember,” she said, “that the first night I saw you, you spoke of my sister as your friend. ‘Gérard will think that I have gone back to London. ” She marked an hotel that seemed neither opulent nor odd in a little side street opening on the Embankment, made up her mind with an effort, and, returning by Hungerford Bridge to Waterloo, took a cab to this chosen refuge with her two pieces of luggage. Plote was sleeping or deaf.
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