There is Mr. They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. "Write as I dictate," he cried, placing a pen in the jailer's hand and a pistol to his ear. ” He chuckled, wincing at the thought. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. What can she have done to deserve such a fate? Oh!” They both turned round at Anna’s exclamation.
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