” John looked at her sympathetically. The old man was conducted to Jack's cell by the turnkey, who remained near him during their interview. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. She finished the olive and looked up. Her brown curls were pulled tight in a severe chignon. He never said hello, as if it had become a personal taboo for him. "It is past," said Jack, placing his finger on the trigger. He had made it even easier by walking up the steps instead of taking the elevator. “Did you see who that was?” he asked in a low tone.
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