“Annabel?” he exclaimed. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. “Hello?” She asked as she cradled the phone by her ear. How came you to know it? Have you heard the name before?" "I think I have—long, long ago, when I was a child," replied Mrs. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper. "You didn't spend it?" "I never intended to spend it—any more than I really intended to steal it.
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