It clicked and the bookshelf was once more intact. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. ‘Aye, that she was. I thought that he was dead. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. "My name is Kneebone," added the portly personage, stepping forward.
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