“I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. She awoke at 11:12 am, her foster sister snoring in the bed across the room. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting.
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