Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. She had fallen asleep. ’ ‘You, perhaps?’ she flung at him furiously, stepping out from behind the desk. ‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. Amongst others, a person near the door, roused by the shriek, observed a man make his exit with the utmost precipitation. The man looked closely at Anna as she crossed the footway, and as he held her skirt from the wheel he pressed something into her hand.
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