Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. F. She thought of the suitcase, the seventy-seven dollars for a Greyhound ticket that had expired. ‘You would read my mind?’ Gerald was pretty certain he already had, but he did not say so. ‘Gérard—’ ‘What now?’ he asked, rife with suspicion. His face was white. Mr.
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