‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years. The Law was around the corner and down the narrow hall, puffing a Virginia Slims Menthol in frantic sips, teetering uncomfortably out of an emergency exit door. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. The unexpected twist—his disclosure to McClintock—had given Spurlock but temporary relief.
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