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’ ‘What?’ Roding’s glare tried Gerald’s control severely, but he pursued his theme unheeding. ‘You! Have you pen and paper?’ ‘Pen and paper now, is it?’ grumbled the old man as he shuffled down the hall. The coffin was lowered into the grave, and the mourners departed. I’ve—dreads. ” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. “You are an impostor. He remembered little whispered speeches of hers, so like the Annabel of Paris, so unlike the woman he loved, a hundred little things should have told him long ago.
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