“Who are you—Annabel Pellissier or her ghost?” Anna laughed. The three young men exchanged expressive glances. "Did I hear you …" began McClintock. A wrathful God was watching him. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be. She had thought of the lawyer who conducted the Remenham business, but she knew not where to find him. Montague Hill. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy.
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