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“Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. Holding down the light, he perceived that the wounded man had risen to the surface, and was trying to clamber up the slippery sides of the well. Darkness closed in on them as the officers stepped inside the musty interior. I understand nothing of what you say. The Supper at Mr. Boys were ordered to wear white buttondown shirts and pleated black trousers.
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