"Crime upon crime. You're not afraid, Mr. Her curiosity was insatiable, her dreams filled with happy speculation over what hair color her babies would inherit. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. Across the blackboard the colored chalks flew like flights of variously tinted rockets as diagram after diagram flickered into being. Seconds went by, and the cannon fired just as Rhea descended upon Lucy. It could not be she who had done this.
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