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Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. She met him by the dugout after the game. Mr. ’ ‘Gérard,’ she said, giving the French version with a soft “g” and not quite managing the “l”. His treatment of his wife is most unsatisfactory. The smile had become a laugh. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. John stared palely. . ’ Gerald could not suppress a grin.
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