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” Annabel laughed gaily. She felt sticky and ashamed when he dropped her off a block away from the McCloskey house as she had requested. She placed the freezer back on top of Ray Plote's old hiding place, now his permanent resting place. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. "In spots you are a thoroughbred; but here's a black mark on your ticket, lad. Martha had the square look of solid English citizenry, which was not deceiving.
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