Last night Mr. 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. ‘Because you are a bête, and a pig, and imbecile. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. Because of the thought of love and companionship? No. “Kick aht at ‘em!” though, indeed, she went now with Christian meekness, resenting only the thrusting policemen’s hands. Clearing the recess the instant after his companion, he flew to the door of the inner room, and, locking it, took out the key.
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