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含羞草研究院网站appCarrying Darrell in his arms, her father followed Miss Grayling downstairs, with Matron cluckingbehind like an astonished hen. Darrell clung to her father as if she would never let him go. Was shedreaming? Could it be that this was really her own father, in the middle of the night? Darrell couldn'timagine how or why he was there, but it was enough that he was.
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