True to her nature, Cathy had already offered John snacks and drinks of water twice by the time Lucy bounded down the stairs at 3:58. The smells of skewered fennel, roast chicken, and broiled pheasant saturated the air, and she could smell other wonderful aromas about them. “I am under police surveillance,” she said. If he keeps his word, I'll keep mine. Hitherto, no visiters had been permitted to see him.
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