It was a face that matched her body, so pure and beautiful that any man would have killed for her. As he hesitated, unable to make up his mind what to do for the best, a heavy rumbling on the cobbles penetrated his absorption. She always managed to get back to the bungalow before he did. " "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. ” “It was behind the Place de Vendome, on the other side from the Ritz.
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