“Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper. Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. Better to remain silent. " "What gives you that idea?" "Well, we could find no letter of credit, no letters, no labels in his clothes—not a single clew to his real identity. It is all very complex. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing.
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