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They simply understood there was a greater need to get over the past than to talk about it. She read the policeman’s rueful glance when she caught his refection in his rearview mirror. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them. She bolted awake in the large bed which was awash in a sea of silks, furs, and red curtains. Capes. The mode of destruction makes no difference. ’ Thus adjured, but mindful of Trodger’s orders, the militiaman went down the hall backwards, his eyes fixed on the prisoner.

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