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CHAPTER IV. “It was best for me to know. She'll have this hour always with her; and you failed her. ” “Were you sexually abused? Was it a miscarriage?” “No. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. You wanted to play a lone hand. The man was thick set, with a bright roving eye. The day is already half over.
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