He heard Rollo's stump beat a gentle tattoo on the floor. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. “He is Annabel’s husband,” she reminded him. She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. “The man who was found dead in your sister’s room was named Hill?” “It is the man,” she answered.
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