By the side of her plate was a small key. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. Sensitive, aren’t they?” She chuckled. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. “Get you a cold one?” “No thanks.
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