‘Well, this maid,’ went on Kimble eagerly, ‘and me, we gets to talking, see, and that’s how I knew he were off to this party. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. Get out your pad and pencil. . ” “I am convinced of it,” she answered. And what was singular she did not recount to the doctor that morning's adventure. The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue.
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