A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. \"Drives a red Jeep?\" \"Uh-huh. ” “It would be different all the same.
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