\"I'm sixteen, I'm a junior like you. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. It was Annabel who spoke. He would have to sit down here in Canton and wait, perhaps for weeks. There is scarcely one chance in a dozen of saving his life; there would be none at all if he were moved. ‘Allow me. .
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