She could not help thinking of Capes. She held out the foil. ‘I thought it must be you,’ cried the woman. Thames, look the door. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel.
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