He pushed her to his bed, little more than a cot, and pulled off her clothes. Mother? Suzanne Valade, her mother? With deliberation, he spoke. John knew better. This is the way the old thief brings in all his heavy plunder, which he stows in out-of-the-way holes in his infernal dwelling. But the girl stood outside the circle of Ah Cum's knowledge—rather profound—of human impulses. Then a bit of colour flowed into his sunken white cheeks.
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