And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever. ’ Kimble’s eyes widened. ” “Yes. It’s these damned novels. It was you! It was exactly you, but it was probably the photo they thought it was your mother! I dug it up after combing the Reader’s Guide To Periodical Literature for like, six hours straight. Turning off again on the left, down Seacoal Lane, they arrived at the mouth of a dark, narrow alley, into which they plunged; and, at the farther extremity found a small yard, overlooked by the blank walls of a large gloomy habitation.
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