CHAPTER I. " "You have extradition papers?" "What sort of a detective do you think I am?" countered O'Higgins. Red velvet curtains rustled under dim lights as the door shut with a heavy snap. “I want you to kiss me,” she said. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay.
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