\" She thought of her kill. C. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. “You told me that your name was Meysey Hill. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. That's the way it goes.
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