She held out her hand frankly. Stanley changed his key. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered. ‘Precisely. He was alert, well-groomed, and yet—perhaps in contrast with the more volatile French type—there was a suggestion of weight about him, not to say heaviness. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. “Michelle said that your mom was a suspect because she ran away, visited some boyfriend of hers and then ran off into the night. He stopped short of a group of adolescent saplings and turned the ignition off.
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