There are also the letters which were scattered about Wild's room after the murder of Sir Rowland. ‘A little promenade, madame?’ Madame Valade rose from the chintz-covered chair with alacrity and a little rustle of her silken petticoats. ‘Never mind that now. The twists in his brain had suddenly straightened out; he was normal, wholly himself; and he knew now exactly what he had done.
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