“I cut off his right hand pinky with his own rusty bolt cutter. A disconcerting gray eye that had a mystifying depth. Gerald stood quite still for a moment or two, listening intently. " "So am I. Everybody breathed a collective sigh of relief in the neighborhood, no one wanted to see how those kids would grow up. . ‘Sergeant Trodger is who I am. ” “Rather! But I wonder why you don’t mean it?” “Because, I suppose, the other thing is better. “Holy shit!” Giggling and snickering was amplified by asbestos tiles and reverberated by metal desks. ‘No doubt accompanied by the latest crim con tales. All this Woman-who-Diddery —no damn good. She was too late.
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