‘That’s a loud one. One glance swept across the place and it was immediately apparent that Pottiswick had not, this time, been mistaken. Assessing him as harmless, she had remained friendly, albeit aloof. The day was so darkly overcast that she had to turn on the small white porcelain lamp that sat upon the makeup crowded vanity. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired.
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