A common rage flushed their faces. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. It was evident the lady’s servant knew his mistress, for he had come equipped with a tray upon which reposed a decanter and two glasses. The sky was dripping a wet, slow rain that had forced the city’s inhabitants into taxicabs and dingy cafeterias, the day wholly ruined for all except the insane schizophrenics and her. She could not run, her limbs were frozen.
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