The sound of their strident voices floated upwards, the high nasal note of the predominant Americans, the shrill laughter of girls quick to appreciate the wit of such of their male companions as thought it worth while to be amusing. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. "Some one must have assisted him. Are you going to write a novel?” “Not I,” she answered gaily. I have a weapon—a knife—and if you attempt to open the door, will plunge it to my heart.
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