It required no great powers of perception to see that something had happened to Henning Marshall: a slit eyebrow, a thickened bridge of his nose, a bashed cheekbone, so I wasn’t joking when I asked, “What did you do—go through the windshield?”
“Two broken ribs and a dropped knuckle as well,” he said holding up his hand for me to inspect, “not to mention a damaged vertebra.”
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