Chapter VI A QUESTION OF IDENTIFICATION The little man with the closely-cropped beard and hair looked at her keenly through his gold eye-glasses. We are doing a unit on World War II in American History right now, so maybe I am getting a little wrapped up in the unit or something, I dunno. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil. He has hanged twelve of his associates already. I mean Miss Charvill no harm. "Let us hope that, like her who 'loved much,' her sins are forgiven her.
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