Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man. By the time she was done, the bodies in the bathtub were gathering flies. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. The thing is done. He could not permit her to remain in that position. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. Her hair had begun to grow back, it now swept to her shoulders. That was the inconvenience of it; her head was swimming.
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