Roger must have been thinking something along the same lines, for he appeared to understand exactly what she meant.

Even as Roger thought that, the leather lines reached him.

But Roger did not think it was routine at all.

A bruise on the back of the head,' Roger was thinking.

Roger looked down at the papers, thought for a moment, and then shrugged.

Roger thought about that for a long moment, then nodded.

A glass face in more ways than one, Roger thought, looking at her.

Not nearly ready enough, Roger thought, and wanted to kick himself for bringing her.

The house could be no more than twenty or thirty years old now, Roger thought.