I shall not let you go till I am quite sure. “Called myself Anna,” the girl repeated coolly. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. She addressed Capes as though she spoke to him alone. ‘Besides, I don’t want the men blundering in here and frightening off our spy. It’s a pure joy of giving—giving to YOU.
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