The man who sat behind a pigeon-hole, and regulated the comings and goings, was for a moment absent. He was the Napoleon of knavery, and established an uncontrolled empire over all the practitioners of crime. Then as she lay very still, with her hands clinched and her black hair tumbled about her face, he came still closer and softly kissed the nape of her neck. “I am very glad to hear you say it,” he repeated, and refrained from further inquiry. This, then, was the woman from whom Hoddy would not have accepted a cup of water.
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