 What didn't Ann receive from Hartshorne-Logan?
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. The Christmas party at the Boston branch of Hartshorne-Logan was threatening to become more legendary than usual this Christmas. When he slid under the table containing the drinks, Miss Pringle, who sold millinery, had screamed: "He'll drown!" One out of every three dirty stories started by party attendees had remained unfinished, because each had reminded someone else of another story. The recently developed liquors which affected the bloodstream three times faster had driven away twinges of conscience about untrimmed trees and midnight church services. But the impact knocked the hallowed portrait of H. H. Hartshorne, co-founder, from its nail. "It's all in the spirit of good, clean fun!" cried Mr. Hawkins, the assistant general manager. Mr. Hawkins himself, acting by reflex, attempted to return the portrait to its place until new glass could be obtained. To hear more of it, he said to her: "I'll bet that's been in there ever since the picture was framed. Here's an order that Hartshorne-Logan never filled! Mr. Hawkins downed the rest of his drink and pulled a batch of keys from his pocket. But I remember that my grandmother never bought anything from Hartshorne-Logan because of some trouble her mother had once with the firm. Ann Hartley was returning from mailing the letter when she found the large parcel on her doorstep. The label was addressed in a wandering scrawl, a sharp contrast to the impersonal typing on the customary Hartshorne-Logan bundles. She found scissors in her sewing box, tossed a cushion onto the floor, sat on it, and began to open the parcel. "Now I'll have to write another letter to explain that they should throw away my letter of complaint," she told her daughter. Ann was about to hunt for a razor blade when Sally clutched at an intersection of the cord and yanked. Instead, she tossed the wrappings aside and removed the lid from the carton. Ann pulled out the dress and shook it into a freely hanging position. "It's probably the wrong size, too," Ann said, pulling off Sally's dress to try it on. Ann grabbed her daughter's arms, held them above her head and pulled at the dress. When Ann released the child's arms to loosen the dress, Sally squirmed away. She took one step forward, then began to float three inches above the ground. She was shaking her head and wobbling uncertainly toward her daughter when the door opened behind her.
 a response to her complaint letter
 a letter regarding money owed  a package with incorrect items  a response to her complaint letter  a manky