" The Wastrel advanced. It is Thérèse. ‘That’s wicked, that is. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. Miss Annabel is her sister. “I don’t know. ” Chapter XVIII ANNABEL AND “ALCIDE” Lady Ferringhall lifted her eyes to the newcomer, and the greeting in them was obviously meant for him alone.
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