She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. One of his chair coolies had witnessed the transportation of Spurlock by stretcher to the sampan in the canal. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. ‘It is, you understand, that Monsieur Charvill did not—how do you say in English?—having an eye to an eye—’ ‘Didn’t see eye to eye with the Vicomte Valade? That I can well believe. It was the gallows.
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