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She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. "Shpeak up, vill you?" cried Abraham, rapping his knuckles against the hatch. There sprang from that a vague hope that perhaps she might extort a capitulation from her father by a threat to seek that position, and then with overwhelming clearness it came to her that whatever happened she would never be able to tell her father about her debt. “His back was towards me,” Anna said.
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