The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. “But who’s going to pay for the room?” “I’ve got money,” said Ann Veronica. “Why are you so distant? Why all the mystery? What are you, a narc? Double-oh-seven or something?” She steeled herself, refusing to react. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it.
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