The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. They turned off at Glen Grove, a sleepy town of less than two hundred. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, embracing arms. A man came out, and walking recklessly, almost cannoned into Ennison. ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway.
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