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Unformatted text preview: thing," said Lark. "I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all. I told you Rowan Mayfair asked me to handle this confidentially. I'm here because of information you volunteered and because the family asked me to come. I'm not in a position really to turn over these specimens to anyone. In fact, I don't think I could successfully retrieve them from the people who have them at this point. Rowan was specific. She wanted them tested in secret at a certain place." "The Keplinger Institute," said Lightner gently and politely, as if reading this off a cue card on Lark's forehead, his pale eyes calm. "Mitch Flanagan, the genetic genius, the man who worked with Rowan there before she decided not to stay in research." Lark didn't say anything. The car floated soundlessly along the skyway. The buildings grew denser and the grass more unkempt. "If you know, then why did this guy ask me?" Lark demanded. "Why did he stand in my path and try to force me to tell him all this? How did you find out, by the way? I'd l...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10