" "Wrong? What the devil could be wrong?" McClintock had demanded, irascibly. She donned her gloves. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. ” “The only Montague Hill I ever knew,” Annabel said slowly, “is dead. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him.
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