Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. ’ ‘That’s just it,’ said Joan Ibstock shamefacedly. He—In fact, he—he locked me in my room. "God in Heaven bless you, unhappy boy!" cried. He was struck disagreeably by Ramage’s air of gallant consideration and Ann Veronica’s self-possessed answers. Promise me that you’ll contact the police if she ever calls you on the phone, or worse, shows up at your school.
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