There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. She was gathering quite a crowd in her newfound popularity, and the phenomenon was so apparent she could almost form her own harem of young boys. "If you thought that, why did you give me this job?"—his voice faint and thick. “Hospital? What for? What’s the matter with me?” Courtlaw’s voice sank to a whisper.
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