At length Jack Sheppard observed:—"The coast's clear. Shari’s head poked out of the bathroom where she had been preoccupied with preparations for her morning shower. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. Mike and Shari sat at the kitchen table eating potato chips. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. He was a London man of business, spending a small legacy in Paris. Activity in the hall intensified.
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