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” He shook his head. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica. You know you do, Annabel. ” Annabel rose and followed her sister from the room. What else could he do? You can’t kick up a scene on the spur of the moment in the face of such conflicting values as he had before him. . We can’t even protect them from themselves. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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