She fell into a deep delirium, whispering hoarsely to her dead mother, cursing God in Heaven, cursing her doctor, cursing herself as apparitions of devils and demons pulled at her with yellow ochre hands. "Put your arms about me. He had done this a dozen times on the way from his office. I have unfinished business. ‘A spitfire, ain’t she, sir?’ Roding ignored this. The Frenchman was already being followed. ‘Laisse-moi.
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