Earles watched her anxiously. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. Did he intend to kill her now, this instant? Or had she a moment or two to try to save herself? Recalling Leonardo’s dictum, she did not struggle, for that would only tighten the trap about her, and perhaps even spring it.
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