“Sir John!” Annabel gasped. Stanley?” “I’ve fallen out with my father. Doubts began to rise up all about her, plucking at her confidence. Apparently she was always doomed to weep when she talked to her father. “Steady on!” he cried. I can’t love you. Moving back to the corner again, she ran a hand back over the leather-bound books—which, she realised, were not books at all. It was the last thing she felt like drinking. I daresay you have the whole thing wrong, Gerald.
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