Perhaps you will now explain the alarm. For a moment her thoughts led her back to the evening when she and Courtlaw had stood together before the window of her studio in Paris, before the coming of Sir John had made so many changes in her life. ‘At this present, I must appropriate Lady Bicknacre. Annabel lounged in her chair with a sort of insolent abandon in her pose, and wide-open eyes which never flinched or drooped. ‘I—I mean, she were—’ ‘Pretty as a picture?’ suggested Gerald.
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