He could think about it later. David Courtlaw. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. Gerald guessed she was biting her tongue on an explosive retort as she eyed him. Answering him was agonizing.
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