She trailed him to his apartment and a black door that read 727 in solemn gold-tone lettering. I should feel that I had been obliged to find some one else to fight my battles for me. He entered it; crossed the room, in which there was only a small truckle-bed, over which he stumbled; opened another door and gained the stair-head. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand.
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