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It was Annabel who caught at the paper. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park. But she found an unknown lady’s discarded garments, and selected some of those that she tried on, sending Kimble off down the secret passage to load them onto the horse she had borrowed—unbeknownst to its owner—from Father Saint-Simon. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home.
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