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“My hand! This isn’t the place. Sometimes a whole morning would pass without Spurlock uttering a word beyond the request for a drink of water. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. ” Annabel shook her head. ” He stood before her, his hat in his hand, his head bent, his voice lowered to a convenient pitch. A pity, en effet, that she dare not truly desire him to rescue her. “Please come home. " "I have no people—anybody who would care.
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