" As Jack made no reply, the woman proceeded. 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. That was the Frenchie, Valade, surely. Very likely by this time the whole truth is known. It was open. “I remember it very well indeed. 3. Jack Kimble stiffened, looking at his interrogator with wary anger in his face.
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