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Annabel was conscious then of the slow anger which had been burning within her since the night of her visit to the “Unusual. ‘So Leonardo has taught me. ‘As Madame Valade, you will be an émigré, not a nun. " "Poor soul!—poor soul!" groaned Wood, brushing the tears from his vision. The vestry door opened to the mews behind, and not to Golden Square. ‘Yes, miss. That is not reasonable. "Can't you see? I can't hurt her, if … if she cares! I can't tell her I'm a madman as well as a thief!… What a fool! What a fool!" A thief. I’ll have it out with him.
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