Sheppard. In the obscurity in which it was now seen, it looked like a prison, and, indeed, it was Jonathan's fancy to make it resemble one as much as possible. She should leave sooner, but she just could not bear missing the event. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. She had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. A nurse was at the other end of the room.
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