He took some Oreos from the bottomless supply that stocked the cookie jar. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. The detective rapidly sketched the appearance of the room in his notebook, and picked up the pistol from under the table. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. Sated, he rolled off her body and retired to his quarters. There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow. Ruth felt his hand grow cold as it slipped from hers.
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