95 The officer showed her into the sleepy suburban police station, a hub of inactivity on Sunday night except for herself and a slightly drunk woman who had been brought in for DUI. He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. " "Anything else, Sir?" "No:—stay! you'd better not bring up any silver forks or spoons. Take it," he cried, lifting the babe from the bottom of the boat, and flinging it towards its unfortunate father.
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