As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. “I think you are getting to understand me better. "He has not the power—perhaps not the will to do so. Now you can understand why I have been obliged to——” “Yes, yes, I understand that,” Courtlaw interrupted. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor.
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