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Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. He saw his father, calling to him from an icy white tunnel, beckoning to him. CHAPTER XXVII His idea, cleverly planned, was to shatter her resistance, to confound her suddenly by striking her mind with words which would rob her coherent thought. Ten years of military life had taught him caution, but only strengthened a fearless zest for diving into any promising adventure with unalloyed enjoyment. The one fault, indeed, of this school of fiction for him was that it had rather a light way with parental rights. If he decided to watch television upstairs with his mother, she would probably retire before he did, but she was a light sleeper. "When I am dead you will learn it.
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