She ducked behind a pile of unused drywall. “I hope,” Annabel answered lazily, “that you have succeeded. This girl whom he had met by chance and befriended had done both. Sheppard was unwillingly compelled to listen. He had promised her some books, for she had voiced her hunger for stories. Danger, in the form he apprehended, was lurking outside: nor was he destined to enjoy long repose.
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