They took her fingerprints sitting at the gray metal desk of Officer Nolte, the virile young buck who had brought her in. ‘I suppose you think I can’t manage it myself,’ had complained Captain Roding sarcastically. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. "Her blood be upon her own head, then," replied Rowland, sternly. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity.
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