She had no intention of fighting fair. He even thought he could detect the voice of Jonathan, urging and directing them. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. Dim possibilities that she would not seem to look at even to herself gesticulated in the twilight background of her mind. The clock struck half-past ten. And they had an idea of what men were like behind all their nicety.
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