Her hair was washed for her also. He did not know what her game was, although he had a shrewd suspicion that she had been co-opted into it by her supposed husband, the soi-disant Valade. Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. Crocodile Tears. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols.
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