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” Miss Stanley reflected as Ann Veronica went toward the house. ’ ‘You would speak of the house?’ ‘Many’s the time little Miss Mary would say her papa meant for her to have it, she having no brothers and sisters at all—when we played together I mean, she and me and Joan Pottiswick. Flattened flowers aren’t for the likes of us. But the recollection of the warm pliant body in his arms …! "I am a thief!" he whispered. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done.
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