” The conversation hung. I don’t conceal it. She directed him to an old part of the highway, a featureless stretch of old farmhouses capped in snow, with the occasional working silo. ” Anna looked for a moment steadily at her sister, whose face was still averted. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go. I didn’t get it, why she put on the innocent act.
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