” The two women shook hands. Snatching-up his pistols, he rushed to the door, but to his horror found it fastened. He smiled inwardly. "I've said it," rejoined Jonathan, peremptorily. "Been to those places?" "No. She kept him talking all the way to the doorstep of the Beck's home, a small 1970s brown split-level in the old part of town. For a long time neither spoke again. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. She glanced at him.
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