But no one could explain the disappearance of Michelle’s parents, nor could the police find a fingerprint or even a clothing fiber to trace what had happened to them. In the northwest angle, there was a small pen for female offenders, and, on the south, a more commodious enclosure appropriated to the master-debtors and strangers. "Who's there?" cried Rachel. He recognised this object at once. "I need not ask whether this is Mr. ‘Wait! At least tell me where I can find you. ’ Fresh suspicion kindled in his breast. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation.
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