" Thames complied. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. Just a friendly polite suggestion. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child.
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