‘I’ll get the key,’ said Roding, turning abruptly. Annabel was in hiding all the time. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. Nothing has been touched since. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done. He would know her address to-morrow.
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