That was the true marvel of it. You will survive, mark my words. Time wore on somewhat slowly with the prisoner, who had to control his impatience in the best way he could; but as the shades of evening were darkening, the door was unlocked, and Mr. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. Another long interval elapsed. She looked about, watching a massive green storm cloud building in the west. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town.
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