"It's all over," groaned Wood, "and perhaps it's as well her senses are gone. "I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. Manning loved her presented itself to her bloodlessly, stilled from any imaginative quiver or thrill of passion or disgust. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. ‘How do you know?’ ‘Exactly,’ pounced Roding bitterly. Ed.
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