There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe. ‘Then we will beg. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it. ” “And mine,” murmured his companion, with the smile still lingering upon his lips.
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