By the time she arrived at the Beck’s doorstep, the morning was risen. Knives were worse, especially when you were stabbed back and left traces of your own blood at the crime scene. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. There is a new life, different from the old life of dependence, possible. It was a spring-tide at half ebb; and the current, which was running fast and furiously, bore him instantly away.
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