They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. Pretend to weep both of you as loudly as you can. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. This will be safer than cutting his throat on shore.
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