“My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. It was Annabel who spoke. “When did you look up my mother’s records at the Joliet library, Michelle?” Lucy asked, trying not to incriminate herself by sounding confrontational. McClintock, coming from below, saw them and went forward. And instead of accepting the situation gratefully, he felt vaguely hurt! One evening in September a proa rasped in upon the beach. Gerald sympathised with his friend’s irritation.
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