” “Well,” she said, “has there not been some reason for this? The likeness to Annabel could scarcely have escaped remark. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. Her father became much less distant towards his only daughter in the days that followed. “Perhaps.
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