’ Kimble’s eyes widened. ” “For example?” “Your dyed hair. Father— dead. " "You astonish me," said the stranger, in a voice full of emotion. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. \" She handed the ticket seller, a boy that looked to be all of eighteen years old, murder money that she had stolen from Dawn Plote's dead son, five dollars.
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