95 The officer showed her into the sleepy suburban police station, a hub of inactivity on Sunday night except for herself and a slightly drunk woman who had been brought in for DUI. ‘But what is it that amuses you, Jacques?’ Kimble’s grin spread wider. She stood, as it were, directed doorward, with her eyes watching every movement, listening to him, repelled by him and yet dimly understanding. Not much to his surprise, Jack Kimble shook his head. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island.
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