‘Tell me, my boy. You’re a lady. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. Wood wound it up by a description of the drenching he had undergone at the Mint pump, the other could hold out no longer, but, leaning back in his chair, gave free scope to his merriment. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you.
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