Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. They were loath to admit to the public that the case would be closed in a few years for sheer lack of forensic evidence. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything.
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