Wood was scarcely seated before Mr. "That's it!" cried Wild when Trenchard concluded. "Don't look at it, I entreat," she cried. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. It seemed to him that speech would be an anticlimax. After that consolations fled. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. But he was a thief, a fugitive from justice.
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