Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. She had felt deserving of the punishment, as he had been mainly concerned that she would be killed by accidentally falling into the pit, but it was a terrible insult. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. I get your side all right. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame.
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