” She replied. ” “But Hainault—was—a pal. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. "Let me see," replied Wood; "exactly twelve years ago last November. People think it is, but they are wrong. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. "The other kid's given my partner the slip. White’s surprise as she swung easily down the room, followed by the two young men, she smiled a careless explanation at her. " He shook his head. Marina gently passed the swaddled infant to his mother, who sat down on the bed proudly to nurse the baby, extracting a fat breast from her heavy gown. There's the paragraph.
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