Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. What had been happening all this time? ‘Do you tell me he has not again left his apartment?’ ‘Only to go to some party or other Monday night,’ Kimble said. She is in Wild's power. Lucy knocked again. She would become defensive—what she did would be the thing that mattered.
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