’ ‘What?’ squeaked Kimble. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. In the rush of commuters he did not see her boarding his train. "I guess who you mean," rejoined Shotbolt. Then, in a whisper: "But there's no reason why the whole hotel should. A glance down the passage—to see that Roding was not lurking?—and her face came back to Gerald, triumph in her eyes. There stepped forth a tall brown man.
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