“MY DEAR FATHER,” she wrote,—“I have been thinking hard about everything since I was sent to this prison. Will you please—Not now, or I must go. “Was I that bad?” He asked. You don’t want to miss the sport. Restlessness, then, was the trouble, simple restlessness: home bored her. There's nothing on the card to indicate it, but I'm a detective. ‘I do not know if even I can do anything now.
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