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Hayward, Rachel

"The Hippodrome"

We have everything in our favour to-night, Sobrenski does
not know you are here yet. If you go soon you will get away without
his having seen you at all. Here is the key of my room. Go there
first, and you will find all your own letters in a wooden box in my big
trunk. That isn't locked. Open it and burn them all. Then go on to
your own room, do the same with yours and stay there. If they raid my
room, they will find nothing suspicious. You could pretend you were
ill, and that's the only reason you haven't come tonight, and I am here
doing my work as usual. Nothing could be less suspicious. Then when
they are off their guard we can escape."
The minutes were flying. Death thrusting his lean face before the rosy
face of Love. Sobrenski's phrase sounded in her ears like the tolling
of a bell. "You have an hour free to do your work." An hour, only an
hour! How long had they been there already? Time and all else alike
seemed blurred. All her will must be concentrated upon one thing--to
make Vardri leave her as quickly as possible.


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