She had trembled on the verge of such a resolution before, but this time quite definitely she made it. They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. The note-passer lagged behind with her. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. Lucy heard a stir, but if Dawn Plote were to arise and come into the room, it could only mean two murders tonight.
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