" He patted her hand. Anna leaned forward, watching the people in the streets. ” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. “You yourself have decided that—apart from the question of Annabel. ’ ‘What offer?’ she asked, suspicion rife in her voice. Annabel was born soulless, a human butterfly, if ever there was one. But I liked to say it. ” “Lady Ferringhall! Anna!” he exclaimed. " And, with a few magical touches, he stamped the fleeting expression on the canvass.
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