I’m sorry. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her. "I've just recollected that my husband left a key with me, which he charged me to give you when I could find an opportunity. The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. What she said is true. Humph.
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