On the morrow Spurlock (who was unaware that he had offered a prayer) let down the bars to his reserve. It wasn’t anything splendid, you know. He looked the boy over with interest. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh. Meysey Hill—never your wife. “Annabel?” he exclaimed. She had decided that she would begin with her pearl necklace. Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone.
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