Perlmutter snarled, then groaned with pain and clutched at his stomach, which was on the rise again. ' A urinary-tract infection, Henry thought. It had crept up, caught him outside his office refuge, and it meant to have him. If he wasn't careful, someone would see it .
He was now absolutely sure the man hadn't been drinking — it was fear (and maybe exhaustion) rather than booze that had made him unsteady on his feet. Definitely. It was the most beautiful room in the world. The muscular rope between his legs squeezed again, and there was a low popping sound from somewhere in the liquid haze of pain that was now his groin.
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