He could scarcely blame her. The place was pockmarked with window-like holes everywhere—people were always 138 falling into them and breaking bones--it was for these lookouts why she had chosen it. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. So long as they're about, I'll always be rewriting them and wasting my time. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world.
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