" So saying, he unlocked the door and strode out of the room. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. In the bad light he looked at once military and sentimental and studious, like one of Ouida’s guardsmen revised by Mr. Her likeness to her sister gave him at first almost a shock; a moment afterwards he was conscious of a wonderful sense of relief. “Your friend, “DAVID COURTLAW.
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