’ The expression on Emile Gosse’s face was vicious under the smile. The patient fell into a natural and refreshing sleep. With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece.
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