The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. “Want one?” Michelle deadpanned.
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