\"Are you aware that every girl in Princeton Hills would kill for a chance at him? I think it's simple. " "A fugitive. ” He rowed a stroke and watched the swirl of water from his oar broaden and die away. "Certainly not," replied Gay. Nor was Jack by any means the only stripling in the room. In fact, Kimble was drowsily awake when she entered the little bedchamber, the state of which left a good deal to be desired, even without the added debris arising from tending a wounded man. It was John Diedermayer, who had been transformed into a young scholar with a large pair of wire-rimmed eyeglasses on. Just what in the world was that about? Before he could hazard a guess, Lucy looked back at him. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree.
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