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Hayward, Rachel

"The Hippodrome"

If you behave sensibly you won't."
The window was fully open and the green shutters thrown back, and the
fierce sunlight streamed into Arithelli's room, which showed more than
its normal disorder. The tray with the _cafe complet_ was on the floor
where the landlady had left it on her hasty stampede downstairs,
half-a-dozen turquoise rings lay strewn over a little table, where they
had been thrown when they were dragged off, boys' clothes trailed over
the back of one chair, and a blue skirt over another. The only orderly
thing visible was the immaculate row of fine kid boots, long, narrow,
pearl-grey, tan and champagne-coloured.
Arithelli lay on the big bed under the faded canopy. She had wrapped
herself in a thin blue _peignoir_, and her face was half hidden in
tangled hair. The tumbled bed-clothes were pulled to one side and
dragging on the dusty boards. She was quite unconscious of anyone's
presence, and moaned softly in a strangled fashion.
The two men stood without speaking, and watched the writhing, restless
figure. Vardri turned away first with a smothered exclamation.


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