The door into the passage offered itself with an irresistible invitation—the one alternative to a public, inexplicable passion of weeping. ” “The posters at least,” Anna answered quietly, “I have some claim to. Old Newgate. . I've got to know why. They are their mother’s sons. It is quite a descent from the clouds, isn’t it?” “I will accept that,” Anna said, “as accounting for the surprise. ” “How absurd!” Annabel declared.
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