She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. The mode of destruction makes no difference. ‘Silence,’ hissed a voice in French. It seemed to encapsulate the mosquito like a little piece of moonlight, it was talismanic to her. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. It wasn’t pretty. Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers.
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