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His finger landed on the third man, whose face was turned away fro in for a better look

Beauvoir also studied it He’d wondered about that third man and had harbored a suspicion that it was Professor Rosenblatt But he couldn’t make the contours of the face, the forehead, the chin fit Even allowing for thirty years of food, and drink, and worry, it was not Michael Rosenblatt

"Who is he, patron?" asked Beauvoir

Isabelle Lacoste looked up from the picture and ," she said, barely above a whisper

"Please," said Beauvoir, with a dished Didn’t correct Lacoste

Jean-Guy looked e of the trial, years earlier John Fle had been both coettable

And there he was again Now that he knew, it seemed so obvious And yet--

"How could that be?" he asked

"I don’t know," said Garaph back in his breast pocket "But I do know he’s the one who coe to create the Whore of Babylon"

They looked over at the couple waiting quietly at the table

"Why don’t you sit in, patron, while we interview hie He looked at the deep blue eyes, the powerful shoulders, the scored and weather-beaten face Lepage’s bushy gray beard still had a hint of the bright orange it had once been It was loose today, not bound by a hair band It gave hi hair was also loose and tangled so that he appeared to be so link Close, but not quite hue looked almost relieved A beast of burden fallen to its knees, still carrying the load, but going no further The end of the road