95 The officer showed her into the sleepy suburban police station, a hub of inactivity on Sunday night except for herself and a slightly drunk woman who had been brought in for DUI. ‘You will keep yourself utterly quiet,’ he instructed, a growl in her ear as they headed for the door. "Poor Mrs. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. “I was in Paris four years ago,” Mr. . Here one might live the life of golden days. Challenge accepted. We want to come to the station if this happens, okay? For your own good. Not alone with her, that’s sure. " "Oh!" Ruth laughed softly.
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